Watch out Colonel!
by RobinRedoe
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the A-team tv-series. Spoiler: A 'Curtain Call' retelling (S2). It was an episode I personally loved & hated at the same time. At some point, I started writing it in fiction-form, but with a slight twist while filling in some missing gaps. Murdock is shot and the team is trapped without the medical needs to aid their badly injured team member.
1. Chapter 1 - A bullet with a name

"WATCH OUT COLONEL!"

The words had only just escaped from Howling Mad Murdock's lips before he realized he was laying in the dirt, looking at the sky in a daze.

For a split second, he wondered what kind of business he had down there..., and most importantly of all: why it hurt so damn much! After all, making acrobatic jumps to snatch flying bullets from mid-air for a friend wasn't really an everyday routine now, was it?

And, come to think of it... the day had started out so well...

It was still quite early in the afternoon when the A-team rounded up on its successful mission. The four men had already treated the bad guys to some well-deserved knuckle sandwiches while simultaneously putting them out of business. They'd wrapped it up nice and tight just before lunch break. According to the colonel, it was another prime example of perfect timing and a piece of cake. Hannibal even spoke his famous _'I love it when a plan comes together'_ phrase before turning his back on one of the crooks. And that's when things went horribly wrong.  
With a hateful glare on his face, the goon quickly recovered, grabbed his gun, and aimed it resolutely at the colonel's back. Murdock didn't even need to think twice. He leaped in front of his commander and hoped he was fast enough...  
It turned out he was...

It was a bullet with a name on it, and it wasn't Hannibal's. Not if the zany pilot could help it.

* * *

Breathing hard, Murdock tried to pull himself together.  
Lifting his head, a sudden white-hot pain surged through the upper part of his torso and made him fall back with a surprised gasp. Grasping at his left shoulder, the pilot suddenly became very aware of the warm and sticky blood oozing from a fresh bullet wound.

"Oh great, I'm leaking 'gain", he mumbled through clenched teeth.

Ugh…Getting shot… it was just one of those things he never got used to.  
Now what?  
As Murdock squeezed his eyes shut while trying to figure out his next move, he heard hurried footsteps approach.

"Let me see how bad it is." said the worried voice of the colonel.

Murdock's eyes flung open as he rolled away from the investigating hands. He wasn't at all keen on being touched right now.

"Oh, shoot, colonel. This itty bitty thing?" he stammered apologetically while his mind was racing to find good excuses to put his commander at ease.

He tried to get up.

"It's just a little puncture wound in the old fuel tank. That's all." the pilot reassured his commander. "Nothing to worry about..."

Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he struggled to find his way.

"Just what I needed... Another hole," the pilot panted with a forced grin. "But it's a good thing. It gives me some extra air ventilation, ya know? Makin' it easy peasy to breathe and all..."

Hannibal didn't look too impressed with all his babbling and helped the pilot roll onto his back again. Murdock's grin disappeared instantly as he regarded the colonel's set jaw and grim expression. Giving up his resistance, he slowly lowered his bloodstained hand and let his commander check out the gun wound. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he squinted up at his other teammates and locked eyes with Face who sat crouched down at his left side. His features usually so composed, now carried a trace of worry too. Behind the conman, Murdock saw a fuming B.A, who seemed both upset and angry at the same time. The pilot shuddered involuntarily.

In the distance, a sudden but unmistakable sound of sirens could be heard. Tawnia, who'd been passively watching the scene in shock, quickly gathered her senses and grabbed the binoculars. She gasped at the sight of the fast approaching MP cars.

"It's Decker!

Hannibal looked up and cursed under his breath. "We need to go!"

As one man, Face and Hannibal quickly bent over to scoop up the injured pilot and drag him toward the van. Murdock didn't even have time to grasp what was happening. Elevated with a sudden rush of pain and adrenaline, he tried to cooperate as much as he could and stumbled his way inside. Instead of sitting in his usual chair that was already occupied by Tawnia, he crawled behind the back seats to make space for the conman who'd jumped in right after him.

"I told you Colonel Decker saw us at that toll crossing this morning." Face muttered bitterly.

"Well, you were right. Feel better now?" Hannibal retorted impatiently.

There was no time for 'I-told-you-so-s.' They had to split...NOW!

"GO B.A!" the colonel barked.

With shrieking tires they drove off, making everybody who didn't have the chance to sit down properly fly from their seats. Murdock tumbled forward and crashed right into the back doors of the van while Face and Tawnia barely held onto their chairs. The team had only _just_ lifted their heels before the military police arrived at the scene.

"Face, get him into a seat!" Hannibal barked over the roaring sounds of the van while focusing on the road. He quickly followed up with a: "Take a right turn here B.A!".

Face immediately swiveled around to see Murdock on the floor in the back of the van. Still dazed, the pilot let out a hiss of pain as he struggled to lift himself up on his good arm. Trying to find his balance while the van was making another sharp turn on a bumpy road, Face jumped out of his seat and quickly crouched down behind his friend.

"You okay buddy"? He asked, immediately regretting the self-evident question.

"Ri...right as rain, m.. muchacho," Murdock answered breathlessly while Face lifted him from the floor.

With wobbly knees and a shocking surface to stand on, it wasn't easy to get the pilot into the chair without causing him more pain. Tawnia quickly assisted, and Murdock sat down heavily while a soft groan escaped from his lips. A painful grimace appeared on his usually cheerful face as he moved his body to a slightly more comfortable sitting position. Face settled in between the chairs that Tawnia and the pilot now occupied, shooting worried glances at his best friend.  
Murdock shivered slightly and looked down at his bloodied hands while trying to avoid the stares from his teammates. He didn't really dare to look at Hannibal who was now observing him with concerned eyes. Nor did he dare to face the others. He had seen Face's expression and even picked up a glimpse of the big guy's angry worried glare in the rearview mirror. The feeling that all eyes were upon him made him squint. He felt like he was causing trouble which was something he really didn't want to do! His shoulder was throbbing at an excruciating pace now, and he had trouble taking deep steady breaths.  
Reassuring himself that the pilot was comfortable enough, Face hurried to the back of the van for the medical kit. A moment later he returned gloomily with a big white box that had two dark scorched holes on the side. It was making a rather disturbing tinkling sound.

"Look's like our medical kit took a bullet too, colonel" Face said with a sour expression in his eyes while opening the box and checking its contents.

The box held the remainders of a broken bottle of antiseptic and soiled bandages and gauze. The liquid had soaked all dressings before vaporizing. Everything looked like it got stuck together, covered in fragments of glass and burned tissue.

"Damn, this stuff is useless now." Face said with clear frustration in his voice. "The whole box is filled with tiny glass splinters. We can't use this safely without risking more harm, Hannibal"

Hannibal nodded. "I guess it must've happened yesterday when those slimeballs took aim at us while we were loading the van."

"Looks like we got _lucky_ then." Face scoffed.

Noting to his relief that all attention had been drawn to the first aid kit, Murdock started to zone out. The stabbing pain was affecting him more than he wanted to admit, and he lost all focus on the conversation. His head was lolling a little and his cheeks had quickly drained of all color.  
An unpleasant and tickling feeling crept over his chest and his shirt had started to feel sticky and warm from his own blood. The lanky pilot took a shuddering breath and closed his eyes tightly while trying hard to enter a different state of mind that could hopefully shield him from this white-hot pain. Even though it wasn't as hard nowadays, sometimes it was just easier not being 'quite there', as he liked to phrase it. He'd simply tune out the unpleasantness of the day...And that was exactly what his mind had started doing the moment he sat down in the passenger seat.  
The voices around him started to become a gentle hum to him. Was it the loss of blood? Or was he simply zoning out only the way Howlin' Mad could?

"Hey, Check on the fool!" B.A suddenly growled.

Everybody jumped at the sound of his brusque voice. The big guy hadn't uttered a word since their hurried departure, though apparently, he'd kept a keen eye on his injured friend from the rearview mirror. Murdock, however, didn't notice the slight commotion around him and was vaguely aware that Face sat next to him preparing a clean handkerchief. Antiseptics or not, the bleeding had to be stopped first. The sudden pressure on the wound made Murdock inhale sharply, temporarily bringing his lingering mind back to the present.

"Boy, he's lost a lot of blood Hannibal". Face said with a soft, worried voice. "We really need to get him medical attention fast."

"Funny…" Murdock thought silently "How could his friend be so close by, yet sound so far away?"

"He's lucky he took it high or he'd have lost it all..." Murdock vaguely heard Hannibal say.

The colonel reached out to tap his injured team member gently on the knee.

"Hang in there, Murdock. We get you to a doctor as soon as we can.."

The pilot looked up at his commander with blurry eyes. Even though Hannibal had sounded calm and in charge, there had been a slight edge of concern seeping through his voice. The colonel hadn't fooled him. He sounded worried.

"Oh, don't you fret about me, colonel," Murdock assured him, sounding slightly out of breath. "I got a lot of revs...in the old engine left..."

He let out a sigh, surprised that talking was taking him so much effort.  
Drifting off again, Murdock's confused mind started to wonder about the possibilities of taking part in one of those silly reality tv-shows about people with unusual characteristics. After all, he had one hole too many now! Wasn't that a peculiar trait on its own? If nothing else, the scrutiny of his team members sort of confirmed the strangeness of the situation.  
Murdock let out a soft feverish giggle.  
Maybe he could become famous as the 'The Howlin' Mad fountain-man' and feature in the headlights of the 8' o'clock news.  
All he had to do was drinking a whole bottle of water and let the water spurt from his ears, nose, and (of course) the newly acquired hole in his shoulder. He would assure the team that he was fine an' dandy, and they would all have a good laugh about his hilarious little leakage.  
See? Every cloud had a silver lining. His gramma taught him that and the lanky pilot tended to live by that rule...

Ouch...  
Murdock's rather desperate train of thought was bluntly interrupted by another burning stab. Slowly, the pilot looked down at his bloodsoaked shirt again while Face removed his handkerchief to see if the bleeding had resided a bit.  
Feeling slightly giddy while a sheen of sweat started to form on his brow, the pilot moved a trembling hand under his jacket to check his injury. His already bloodstained fingers came back with fresh traces of red on them.

"On second thought..." he mused grimly while gazing at his hand with slight disappointment, "This didn't really look like a laughing matter at all.."

Luckily, there was still enough time for a quick news announcement.  
A little out of breath, Murdock grabbed his air microphone and resolutely started his broadcast.

"We interrupt this program to bring you a special medical bulletin on the condition of H.M. Murdock...Your club man, flyin' high, groovin' and spinnin' at you where the air is thin, and the little doggies hoooooowl..."

Murdock's voice started to sound somewhat feverish and high-pitched while Billy, his invisible dog, was howling along. The passengers exchanged worried glances and Tawnia reached out a hand to see the injury too. Flinching at her touch, the lanky pilot quickly pushed her hand away, leaving small traces of blood.

"I'm okay baby, I'm okay..'re you okay?"

Tawnia's eyes widened as she backed away quickly and stared at the red stains on her hand. Unaware of her dismay, Murdock sank back a little further in his seat.

"Will you still love me, when I'm gone.." He sang silently.

He'd just decided that this whole situation was… unfortunately…quite real and had nothing to do with amazing human fountains or the 8 'o clock news.  
He didn't even hear a worried B.A mutter that he was talking more crazy than usual.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2 - A con well done

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey again. Here is chapter two. Like I explained earlier, it's my interpretation of retelling the story of Curtain Call.  
I hope I won't disappoint people's expectations, haha. But we'll see how that goes. Thanks for reading, following and most of all, leaving reviews y'all! You guys are amazing. Have a great day!

* * *

Chapter 2: A con well done.

While driving around the area, Hannibal's mind was racing. His concerns grew bigger with every passing minute, though he didn't want to show the team and leave them more unsettled than they already were. He'd ordered B.A to stay off the main roads to find some place isolated and out of the way from Decker and his men.  
They were trapped, and both he and the ever-persevering Colonel Roderick Decker knew it.  
There was only one way in and one way out of the area. Hannibal knew he could bet on it that his nemesis would do anything in his power to try and capture them this time.

Colonel Decker had been strenuously (and rather obsessively) chasing the team for several months now, and Hannibal had been using each and every opportunity to push the man's buttons, which only resulted in an increased intensity of the chase.  
The team members often accused Hannibal of milking this 'cat and mouse game' for what it was worth. The colonel had to admit that they were right. He just loved to see the other colonel squirm in anger and frustration when the A-team wiggled its way out of his clutches again.  
It kept him sharp and on the jazz.  
But not today...

This time one of his men's life was at stake, and Hannibal didn't want to take any risks. Taunting Decker would be a _very_ dangerous thing to do right now.  
The colonel glanced at his semi-conscious captain while feelings of guilt clouded his mind.  
Seeing the usually so talkative and fidgety pilot slumped down like this was unsettling the silver-haired commander.  
Pushing his feelings aside, Hannibal tried to concentrate and screened the roadmap on his lap.

"Take a turn here, B.A", he commanded his sergeant, pointing at an upcoming side road.

"There should be cabins down this path. We need to find a place to lay Murdock down and make him comfortable".

Turning to his lieutenant, he added: "Face, you'll have to scam it. Start thinking!"

Face nodded silently and headed to the back of the van to see what props he could find.  
B.A squinted his eyes while taking a turn and directing the van onto a bumpy dirt road that led them away from the main road and civilization. The bulky sergeant grimaced, noticing the bad state of the road. Quickly glancing in his rear view mirror he checked to see how Murdock was doing. By the looks of it not so good. Every bump made the crazy man flinch ever so slightly. His head started lolling while he tried hiding his discomfort behind the brim of his hat. B.A shook his head silently and tried to drive as careful as he could in an attempt to avoid the bigger gaps in the road.  
Hannibal scanned the area for any sign of a cabin that could function as a potential hiding place. To his relief, he noticed a glimpse of a roof between the trees. He pointed at it while tapping B.A on the shoulder. The big man nodded in understanding and steered the black van into a layer of underbrush close to the building that conveniently hid them from view.

Hannibal stood up to check on Murdock. He didn't like the gaunt look, nor the sheen of sweat on the captain's face. This wasn't at all good foreboding.  
Tawnia, in the meantime, looked lost and out of place. She kept throwing scared glances at the shiny dark-colored blood on Murdock's shirt. Hannibal saw how she was absentmindedly scrubbing her hands on a handkerchief that contained traces of blood. He sighed. This wasn't the right place for this young and rather naive reporter. He hoped she could put her act together when the situation called for it.  
Kneeling down to check Murdock's pulse, Hannibal shortly patted Tawnia on her shoulder to reassure her that things would be alright, even though he didn't know for sure himself. Face was in the back of the van, arranging the last preparations of his next scam.

"You're up, kid!", Hannibal said, urgently looking up at the lieutenant who was now wearing dungarees, a red and black checkered deerstalker, and an eyepatch.

It was quite an uncharacteristic assemblage of garment on the conman.

"I'll be back in a jiffy," Face said more confidently than he truly felt.

He quickly put on an old khaki colored coat (of which he had torn a sleeve beforehand), grabbed an old hunting rifle, and silently slipped out of the back doors of the van.

"You better be!" B.A grunted impatiently after the conman.

A minute later, Face found himself crouching down behind the bushes growing closest to the building (which appeared to be a modest-sized hunting lodge). Even though the clock was ticking, Face forced himself to do a quick perimeter check. The conman needed to get a feeling of the place and its inhabitants first. He thanked the lucky stars when a slender built man walked outside to fetch something from the pick-up truck that was parked close to the front door. The man was of average age and dressed in what looked like casual hunting garment. From his general appearance and posture, Face could tell that the man probably had a desk job. Maybe he was a paper-pusher like an accountant? Or a clerk maybe? While rubbing dirt on his face and clothes, the conman thought of his wounded friend who was depending on him. It was high time to make his move, and he couldn't afford any failure.

* * *

Artie Simmons and Ritchie Hauser, two tax accountants from Santa Ana, were sitting at the kitchen table in their rented wooden cabin.  
Ritchie pushed his drooping glasses back up his nose while bending over a big map that lay spread across the kitchen table. He was marking new trajects for their next hunting session. Artie was sitting lazily in his chair with one leg on the table while diligently sharpening his brand new hunting knife.  
The peaceful scene was rudely interrupted when a loud knocking on their front door (accompanied by desperate shouting) startled them. Artie who reached the door first was only just in time to catch a young man in tattered clothes who stumbled right into his arms.  
With the help of his friend Ritchie, he managed to help the exhausted man into a chair. It looked like the poor lad had gone through hell.

While pouring the man a glass of water, Ritchie asked: "What happened to you?"

The conman only needed one look at the two men to know they would be an easy target. Composing his face, he was going to put his acting skills into good practice.

"I've been looking for the big one." Face said with a raw growling voice. "Only... he found me first," he added, pointing meaningfully at his torn jacket sleeve.

"Eh, w..who found you?", Artie stammered rather nervously.

"Old Luke", Face answered as if that response explained everything.

Building up the tension, he added: "A GRIZZ! _Big_ , _ugly_ , _mean_. I've been after him for 'bout a year now!"

"HA! I told you there were bears up here!", Ritchie said, enthusiastically elbowing his friend with an excited gleam in his eyes.

"Bingo!", Face silently smiled to himself.

The con was heading in the right direction. Time to add some more fuel to the fire.  
With renewed energy Face grabbed his pack of chewing tobacco. He actually loathed the stuff, but it made his act just that little bit more convincing. Putting a fistful in his mouth, he continued his story and quickly introduced himself as Bear Claw Jones, a bounty/bear hunter who had been tracking down a menacing grizzly bear for a thousand-dollar reward from the government.  
To Face's satisfaction, the two men were almost literally hanging on his lips, taking in every word he said.  
Thankful that he'd stumbled on these gullible marks, Face went for the finish line.  
He pretended to be too exhausted to continue his hunt for the day and the men laid him down on the couch to catch up some strength first.

A few minutes later the two accountants left the cabin in a hurry, leaving Bear Claw Jones alone to rest.  
They whooped enthusiastically while jumping into their pick-up truck, and driving away with greedy smiles.  
Hungry for easy money, the two accountants were hopeful to catch the fictive bear and claim the reward for themselves. Face couldn't help but smile to himself for adding another accomplished scam to his name.  
Careful not to be seen, he peeked around the door to see the accountants leave.

"Happy hunting", he grinned in relief.

* * *

In the meantime, while waiting for Face's return, Hannibal had been handing out instructions.

"B.A. you keep an eye on the cabin. Tawnia, I need you to help me remove Murdock's jacket. I need to have a better look at the wound", Hannibal said as he kneeled down in front of the captain.

B.A. nodded, but an angry scowl marked his face. He hated that he couldn't be of more help right now. Feeling utterly useless and seeing the fool in pain like this worked on his nerves. He looked at Murdock and was surprised seeing him stare back at him with a blurry gaze.

"I'm okay, big guy," he smiled faintly as if reading his comrade's mind.

"You better be", B.A growled before turning around to watch the cabin."Or you and my fist will have a talk..."

The big man heard a quiet chuckle in response.  
Tawnia, who was happy to make herself useful, placed herself behind Murdock's chair while Hannibal started peeling off the jacket from the lanky man's shoulders.

"There we go, Captain," Hannibal said softly. "Take it easy now. Lean forward so Tawnia can get your sleeve first."

Murdock obeyed silently, his features strained with the effort. While bending forward to remove his arms from his sleeves, his surroundings suddenly started to wobble dangerously. He bit his lip, trying his best not to let it overwhelm him. Tawnia guided his arms as gently as she could. One sleeve down. One more to go.  
But the second one didn't go as smoothly. Murdock's body shuddered as a sensational pain shot through his shoulder and suddenly his vision went dark.

"Hannibal...!" B.A whirled around in his seat.

The bulky sergeant had been glancing at the pilot from his rearview mirror as he witnessed Murdock's eyes roll back.  
The colonel was just in time and caught the injured man who slumped face forward onto his shoulder. Tawnia gasped while reaching forward.

"I got him, I got him" Hannibal panted slightly, seizing the limp man around his waist and holding him up.

"Keep an eye on the cabin sergeant!", he ordered.

B.A turned around glumly.  
In the meantime, Tawnia used the moment to quickly strip the jacket from the pilot's back. Sitting down, she warily folded the bloodstained leather around her arms while staring down at the painted tiger that seemed to be growling back at her in a warning. Hannibal gently pushed Murdock back into his seat and tapped him on the cheeks to wake him up.

"Stay with us, Captain. That's an order!" Hannibal said with a stern voice that was trying to hide his concern.

Murdock jerked his eyes open from the minor fainting spell.

"Ah'mup, I'm up, Gramma!" he said with a heavy Texan drawl. "Is it Sunday yet?"

That didn't make sense...  
Murdock shook his head and looked around in a state of bewilderment before realizing they were still in the van. Hannibal sighed, noticing that the wounded man had started to become feverish. He really wished he was wrong, but the signs were very clear. A possible infection had set in.

"Now stay awake, son. I need you to stay focused. Can you do that for me?", Hannibal said, trying to make eye contact.

For a moment the two men locked eyes and Murdock gave a small nod before looking at his hands with a slightly embarrassed expression on his face.

"The crazy fool is talking more nonsense again!" B.A. growled while watching the cabin. "I don't like this at all, Hannibal! If Face doesn't hurry, I'll break his legs!".

"The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out...," Murdock mumbled quietly with drooping eyes.

Hannibal frowned. "The hearse song, Captain?"

He sighed. That wasn't a good sign either...  
With a hardened expression on his face, Hannibal started to unbutton Murdock's flannel shirt and reached for his hunting knife on his belt.  
Cautiously, he cut open the pilot's t-shirt from the neck to the waist revealing the bullet wound that was still slowly but steadily, oozing blood.  
Murdock shuddered and leaned his head heavily against the headrest of his seat while closing his eyes.  
All his limbs felt SO heavy. He was pretty sure that it was only a matter of time before he would sink through the bottom of the van (chair and all) from sheer pressure.  
Hannibal decided to throw caution of infection at bay and grabbed a piece of the t-shirt to add pressure to the wound like Face had done earlier.  
Murdock inhaled sharply but otherwise managed to keep his calm appearance up. As time passed by, a grim silence fell over the people in the vehicle.

Finally, after what had felt like an hour, there was a sound of exciting voices and the starting of an engine in the distance. A big old pick-up truck with two enthusiastic middle-aged men drove away in a hurry.

"There's Faceman!" B.A. said with relief in his voice. "He pulled it off!"

"About time too!" Hannibal muttered while eyeing Murdock's burning face.

Starting the engine, B.A. rushed the van to the front door of the cabin and parked.  
His gold jingled softly as the bulky man hastily jumped out of the vehicle to assist his colonel in carrying the wounded pilot inside the house.  
Hannibal struggled when Murdock's long legs got stuck behind the front passenger's seat. Talking gently to the captain, he managed to help the man back to his feet.  
B.A quickly stepped in, supporting the pilot on his other side while Face opened the door of the cabin for them. A gasp of pain escaped from the pilot's lips and both Hannibal and B.A paused momentarily looking at him in alarm.

" 'S all right" Murdock muttered with clenched teeth, in an attempt to console them again.

He could feel both men tense up from his reaction and didn't want to trouble them even more. But who was he fooling?  
B.A cursed under his breath for not being careful enough with his friend. Hanging on his injured shoulder like that ought to be extremely painful.  
Tawnia followed the team closely with the jacket still wrapped tightly around her arms. She looked lost and worried.  
Moments later, Murdock was eased down on a grimy old couch.  
The little trip to the creaky piece of furniture had drained him of all energy and all he could do was lie down and be still while his friends fussed over him.


	3. Chapter 3 - Stepping into the lion's den

Again, thanks so much for reading my previous chapters and leaving me reviews. I am happily reading them and replying.  
This chapter doesn't stray much from the original events in the episode. Next chapters, however, will be quite different though. Oh my! ^_^

Please enjoy my 3rd chapter.

* * *

Chapter 3 - Stepping into the lion's den

The first thing Tawnia did when entering the cabin was dropping Murdock's jacket on a chair in search for a medical kit.

While the men made Murdock comfortable on the couch, she looked around to get an impression of the small cabin.

It was quite shabby and furnished with only the basic necessities. A table, some cabinets with food and utensils, some chairs, and a couch that seemed to be a sleeping sofa...nothing more. Looking around, the young reporter felt a jolt of relief when she spotted the white box marked with a red cross on a small cabinet. But the happy feeling faded the moment she opened it. Searching eagerly through its contents, she noted in frustration that she didn't find any antiseptics.  
Tawnia crouched down and rummaged through the cabinet to see if she could find anything else that could work as a disinfectant. But she found nothing. Not even a bottle of alcohol.

Meanwhile, B.A was handing Hannibal a pillow which the colonel carefully placed under Murdock's head. The pilot lay on his side, staring vaguely into the distance. He hardly responded to being moved and seemed detached from the world somehow.  
B.A frowned at the pale man whose eyes looked feverish.

"Hannibal, I don't like the way he looks, man," he grunted while covering Murdock with a thick brown blanket. "We gotta get that bullet out."

"The bullet is not what I'm worried about," Hannibal said, pushing away Murdock's shirt to reveal the wound.

"It sterilizes itself right in the barrel sometimes. It's the pieces of cloth pushing in that usually starts the infection, and if that happens... we're in trouble".

"Hannibal, here is the first aid kit," Tawnia said, approaching the couch hesitantly with the opened box in her hands. "But I'm afraid we don't have any antiseptic".

Hannibal's eyes widened while looking up at Tawnia. This meant trouble!

"Then give me a big bandage," he said urgently while holding up his hand.

Tawnia who was prepared for this request promptly handed him a big gauze pad which Hannibal quickly pressed onto the wound. Murdock winced and rolled his head sideways to look up at Hannibal with startled eyes as if he just woke up from some kind of trance and was surprised seeing him there. Nevertheless, he didn't give a peep.  
The colonel inspected the wound again. It looked bad, but he was glad to see that the bleeding had receded slightly.

In the meantime, Face was bowing pensively over the map at the kitchen table. His face looked troubled while he studied its contents.

"Hannibal, unless we find a backdoor out of this place, I guess it's Decker's ballgame..," he said grimly.

Hannibal, quickly ordering Tawnia to keep the pressure on the wound, stood up to join his lieutenant. Both men searched the map for possible escape routes. The next medical facility was forty miles South from where they were. It wasn't even that far, but Face pointed out it might as well be four hundred miles with Decker in the area. Luckily, they found a ranger station only 15 Miles East.  
Despite the fact that a hospital would've been a much better option for Murdock, there was only a small chance that they could get him there safe and sound without all of them getting caught. The ranger station, however, had medical supplies that could be of great help to at least stabilize their wounded pilot.  
Making a quick decision, Hannibal sent out Face and Tawnia to get the supplies, while he and B.A would stay with Murdock.  
Before leaving, the conman shot one last worried glance at his wounded friend on the couch. For a split second, a combination of fear and determination could be read from his face. Hannibal noticed and patted his lieutenant silently on the back. Their eyes met briefly, looking at each other in mutual understanding. They were all worried, but they had to keep their wits together for the sake of the team. Face nodded at his colonel and headed for the door, closely followed by Tawnia.  
Some things just didn't need to be said out loud.

Meanwhile, B.A hovered over his crazy friend who was half singing, half mumbling a song. The bulky man strained his ears to catch the last words.

"If you got a problem, it will go away." the pilot sang while his voice trailed off.

B.A scowled at the lanky man. It sounded like the pilot was sending them a foreboding message...As if he was the problem but wasn't going to last anyway.

"You better stay with us, fool," B.A whispered in an angry warning as he noted the vacant stare and the small beads of sweat that were forming on the captain's forehead.

To B.A's relief, Hannibal returned to the couch to check on the injured man. Settling down beside the pilot, he realized he could feel Murdock's body heat. _Not_ a good sign. Hannibal quickly removed his gloves and felt Murdock's forehead. His biggest fear was soon confirmed...  
The pilot was already running a temperature, and the commander knew with one glance at the inflamed wound that it had become infected.

Looking up at B.A he sighed "He's started to get hot..."

The sergeant shook his head gloomily while handing Hannibal another fresh gauze pad.

* * *

It was quiet in the van.

Face was driving fast, concentrating on their route to the ranger's station, while Tawnia was wondering how on earth she'd landed in this unfortunate adventure. She couldn't help but think about the blood and Murdock's gaunt and pain filled face. She liked the quirky pilot very much and hated seeing him suffer. It was as if that image was seared into her brain. She looked down at her hands that still had traces of blood on them. Rubbing her hands vigorously on her pants again, she glanced sideways at the conman next to her. Even though he tried to hide it, she could see the tension in his handsome features. The man looked troubled, and it was as if a shadow had fallen over his usually bright blue eyes.

"Face?" Tawnia asked with a timid voice, "Do you think Murdock will be alright? He's lost so much blood."

She couldn't prevent her voice from shaking a little.

Faceman, who had been deep in thought, seemed startled for a second before looking over at Tawnia.

"Who, Murdock?" He composed himself quickly with what he hoped sounded like a confident voice.

"Don't you worry about good ol' Murdock. He's tough like a piece of rawhide that just came out of therapy."

Pointing at his temple, he added knowingly: " He'll be okay. He's got the kind of strength that counts." Tawnia gave him a weak smile but didn't look convinced.

"He'll be alright Tawnia." Face insisted, looking sideways at the young reporter again.

"Give him a few weeks and he won't be able to distinguish reality from a couple of breadsticks".

Tawnia giggled at that and Face focused on the road again. He wished he was as convinced as he'd pretended to be.  
Finally, for what seemed like ages to the conman, they reached their destination.

"Uhoh", Face muttered, noticing the military police cars parked in front of the Ranger's station.

"Stay here", he quietly voiced to Tawnia before stepping out of the van. "I am going to check the perimeter."

Leaving the young reporter in the van, Face's mind was racing. He had to think of a way to get inside the building unseen. What would be the best approach? Hiding behind the bushes, he observed several sentries that were guarding the building. One of them, a young soldier about Face's size, happened to walk away from the area. The young looked around stealthily for a secluded spot to grab a quick smoke.  
Bingo!  
A mischievous glint appeared in the conman's eyes while a risky plan started to develop in the back of his mind.

"Smoking can be hazardous to your health," he smiled quietly while sneaking up on the unsuspecting man.

* * *

Even though you couldn't tell from the iron mask on his face, Colonel Roderick Decker was quite content about the current prospects of capturing the A-team. People who knew him a little better would observe a slight but unmistakable spring in his step. Though of course, not many people knew him that well, and the ruthless Colonel preferred to keep it that way. Only Captain Crane had noticed the slight change of spirit but he was smart enough not to mention it. They'd found blood on the scene where the A-team had been spotted last. Seeing that Clayton's men weren't injured, there was only one solution. The A-team had a wounded man in their midsts, and by the looks of the amount of blood they'd found, it might be serious.  
A wounded man would slow them down, and Decker knew that it would be a matter of time before he'd catch them.

As he told Crane, "The good of the unit would become the good of an individual, and that would be their undoing."

Decker was operating the radiophone while listening to a report from Unit Fourteen. They'd checked all perimeters but still hadn't detected any sign of the fugitives.

"Understood!" the Colonel replied while standing in front of a counter with his hand on his hip.

"Have Baker and Charlies' squad search the south shore and check on the boathouses. Out!" Decker barked before ending the call.

Even though the squads hadn't found anything yet, Decker felt rather self-complacent. They were combing the area thoroughly and bit by bit their units were closing in on the team. There was no way the three fugitives could escape them without getting arrested.

"This time I'll have you, Smith," Decker mumbled to himself.

He didn't notice the slender soldier with rather handsome features walking into the station and entering the kitchen.  
Face's heart pounded when he casually walked into the ranger's station dressed in the uniform that he took from the soldier he'd knocked into oblivion.  
Slipping into the open kitchen, he tried to look as easygoing as possible while pouring himself a cup of coffee. The conman was hoping with all his might that his theory would hold.

"People very seldom look at what's right under their nose," he'd told Tawnia after she tried to persuade him to come up with a different plan.  
It was rather risky, he had to admit that. But with time running out, he didn't know what else to do. And without the medical supplies, Murdock would be as good as dead. He just had to take the chance.  
He looked around, his eyes screening the room quickly. Face's belly made a little backflip when he spotted the big medical supply box, mounted on the wall next to the window. A feeling of pure frustration gnawed at him. He was so damn close! But how could he possibly take it with him?  
As Face was desperately thinking of a solution, Lady Luck seemed to be on his side.  
Colonel Decker just ended another phone call and beckoned the ranger to follow him outside. Captain Crane walked toward the wall-mounted map of the area and studied it. Face was standing right next to him, trying to turn away apprehensively.

"Soldier, Get me Sergeant Collins on the radio," Crane said, handing Face the radiophone without looking at him.

The conman flinched slightly, but it went unnoticed. He quickly grabbed the radiophone and pretended to be dialing a number. As on cue, a soldier walked into the room to fetch Captain Crane. Thanking the stars for the second time that day, Face watched both men leaving the room.  
Without wasting any time, the conman ran to the wall to unmount the medical kit and lowered it on the ground outside the window. He couldn't believe his luck when he finally climbed out of the ranger station himself and arrived unseen at the van with his loot.

* * *

An hour had passed, and it was clear that Murdock wasn't doing well. The fever had steadily worsened, and the injured man was transpiring heavily. B.A. occasionally sat down on the couch beside him, roughly mopping the pilot's face with his red & white colored handkerchief. He tried to do it as gently as he could, but he simply didn't have the soft touch of his momma. Every now and then he would startle the wounded man out of a dream.  
Murdock's gibberish had subsided to an occasional mumble. Most of the time he lay silently on the couch, battling the overcoming fatigue and fever.  
As the edges of his vision darkened, he tried to concentrate on following the colonel's orders; 'Stay with them, don't give up'. And Murdock would wrestle this monster that he'd called Earl single-handedly if he had to. But it was easier said than done.

"Two matchsticks for mah eyes would be helpful…" Murdock drawled rather incoherently while struggling to keep his eyes open.

"And p'haps a bear trap for Earl?"

B.A, who had been sitting on the floor while working on an improvised stretcher, looked up in bewilderment.

"Huh? What did he say?"

"I didn't catch it," Hannibal shrugged, throwing worried glances at the Captain while pouring a glass of water.

Pulling a chair to the couch, he sat down and nudged Murdock gently.

"You need to drink something, kid," he said while carefully lifting the pilot's head and bringing the glass to his lips.

Murdock sputtered but managed to take a few involuntary sips.

Suddenly his eyes shot open.

It was as if the cool water cleared his mind a little, and a sudden jolt of fear ran through his body when he realized where he was. Pushing away the glass with a heavy hand, Murdock looked up at his commander with big feverish eyes.

"Hannibal, you better get out of here!" He pleaded with a weak husky voice. He looked worriedly from his commander to B.A, who had settled down at the other end of the couch. B.A looked up at Hannibal in alarm.

"Y-You better leave me, man. You better leave me," Murdock went on, clearly struggling for words.

Handing B.A the glass of water, Hannibal exhaled slowly. Leave it up to Murdock to try and protect everybody around him. Even if he was in a life-threatening situation himself. The captain's words weighed heavy on his heart.

"Captain," Hannibal said with a calm but strict voice while locking eyes with the injured man. "We go out together, or we don't go out at all."

Murdock looked scared and a mixture of emotions were visible on his face. Part of him wanted them to leave, to stay out of Decker's claws. They would get in so much trouble if they didn't! But he didn't have the energy to fight over it. The older man slowly lowered Murdock head on the pillow again.

"I want you to rest now."

Murdock slumped back onto the couch, feeling a blanket of weariness clouding his mind. "Yes... restin'..." he slurred before closing his eyes.

Hannibal sighed and stood up rather abruptly.

"I'm going to check the perimeter," he muttered with his back to the sergeant before leaving the cabin with large strides.

B.A peered after his commander with a frown, noticing the man's clenched fists as he went out. The colonel was having a hard time dealing with the situation and tried his best to keep up a strong appearance. But the bulky sergeant knew him too well not to notice the conflicting emotions going on in the man's head. The colonel was on a guilt trip and it wasn't a good sign. B.A looked back at the still form of his friend.

"You heard the man, sucker," he growled more angrily than he really meant.

"We're a team! And we go out together!"

Murdock opened his eyes halfway at his words but seemed too tired to respond. Sighing in frustration, B.A settled himself back onto the floor and resumed his work on the improvised stretcher. He'd almost finished securing the blanket between the two sturdy tree branches. They would need it if they were forced to transport Murdock in a hurry. But the bulky sergeant secretly hoped it wouldn't have to come to that.

Little did he know that luck would soon turn on them.

* * *

Stepping outside the cabin, Hannibal let out a deep shuddering breath he didn't know he was holding. The walls of the house seemed to be closing in on him and he was relieved to be outside in the open air. The older man closed his eyes and let the cool breeze clear his head. He felt the sudden urge to scream out his lungs to let out all of his anger and frustration. He desperately wanted to throw with something! No! He wanted to smash something and pound it to dust!  
But he didn't do any of those things.  
Instead, he took another lung full of air and breathed out slowly with closed eyes. He was not going to lose it, and certainly not in front of his men.  
They depended on him, and he would be of no use to them if he would fall apart. Hannibal searched his pockets for a fresh cigar and cursed when he found none. Scowling, he realized that Face might have one on him. Oh well. He would ask the kid on his return.

Hannibal started checking the perimeter and followed the dirt road that led him away from the cabin. There was a slight bend in the road with tall trees growing on either side that conveniently hid the small building from view. A little earlier, the colonel had busied himself setting up an improvised tripwire that would warn them whenever a vehicle was approaching the house. Hannibal had also gathered an impressive pile of tree branches from the forest to create a roadblock. Should the two tax accountants return early, they wouldn't be able to reach the cabin by car. And their delay would give Hannibal and B.A just enough time to move Murdock out of the cabin and vanish out of sight.  
Just as Hannibal reached his obstruction of branches, he suddenly stopped in track. Was that the sound of an engine in the distance?  
Then he heard the unmistakable sound of tin cans clanging together that came from his improvised tripwire. The colonel had used some of the emptied food cans from the guy's trash bin to set up this simple alarm. His body froze when he saw the outlines of a vehicle climbing up the road. Surely it wasn't the van, Hannibal would've recognized the sound of its engine anywhere. Cursing under his breath, he quickly hid behind a big tree and peeked around it to get a better view.

"Damn it!", he muttered when a familiar pick-up truck was quickly approaching his roadblock.

The vehicle stopped and the accountants stepped out in bewilderment, scratching their heads at the pile of branches blocking their way.  
Without wasting another moment, Hannibal turned on his heels and sprinted back to the cabin to join B. A, hoping the sergeant had finished the gurney. They only had minutes and had to move Murdock.. NOW!


	4. Chapter 4 - slipping away

*** NOTE ***  
A short chapter this time.  
To be continued. Soon there will be a little bit more freestyle writing (instead of following the original script.)  
Thanks again for reviews and follows!

I hope you'll enjoy. This chapter is a bit sad though. ;)

* * *

Chapter 4 - Slipping away

"I hope you know where we're going." B.A muttered slightly out of breath while carrying Murdock at the head end of the stretcher.

Hannibal who had taken up the other end of the improvised gurney, scanned the area as they walked.

"The ranger station is due West of here. We'll find Tawnia and Face on the way," he answered.

Without looking backward, he added: "How's he doing B.A?"

The big man glanced down at the pale and clammy face of his friend and frowned. Murdock's facial expression was contorted with pain.

"Not good Hannibal. 'Think he's getting worse!"

"We need to find a place to lay him down." Hannibal nodded.

Behind him, he heard his sergeant mumble encouragements to the still Murdock. Hannibal sighed wistfully.  
He wished that they didn't have to move the pilot, but when the two occupants of the cabin announced themselves early, they didn't have a choice but make themselves scarce.  
It couldn't be comfortable to be transported in his state, but Murdock hadn't given so much as a peep since their hasty departure. It worried the colonel.  
He needed to figure out the best way to locate Face and Tawnia.  
He'd already warned his lieutenant that there was a high possibility they'd have to leave the cabin on short notice and had to meet up halfway.  
Beads of sweat formed on Hannibal's brow. It was a hot day, and they'd been carrying Murdock for half an hour straight. Their current route wasn't exactly smooth either. Roots stuck out at odd angles from the ground, and tangled weeds were frequently blocking their way.  
Two times they had to hide from MP's who were driving through the area. Hannibal hoped he could find themselves some shelter soon. Anything would do right now.  
Suddenly Hannibal's eye fell on something half hidden between the bushes.

"Slow down B.A. We got to set him here." He said.

After carefully lowering Murdock to the ground, he picked up the piece of wood.

"This looks like shoring timber...". A spark of hope filled his eyes.

"Stand guard, B.A. I'll be right back".

Hannibal scanned the grounds and soon found another piece of wood.  
Crouching down, he peered around. His heart made a leap when he spotted it hidden behind some bushes. It was an old abandoned Mine entrance!  
Hannibal quickly got up and returned to fetch B.A to help him remove the wooden panels.  
He'd found them a shelter!  
It wasn't ideal, but it was definitely better than nothing...

* * *

Murdock woke up from another painful throb in his shoulder.  
For a minute he just lay there with his eyes firmly shut while breathing through the pain. When he calmed down, he realized that the monster he'd called Earl seemed to have disappeared. It had been chasing him through a dark woodland in his dream.

"Maybe the matchsticks and beartrap had done their work after all...?" he hazily wondered.

But it wasn't the only thing that had disappeared. The comforting jingling sound of B.A's necklaces was gone.  
Was something wrong? Was he alone?  
Murdock felt disoriented and wanted to sit up, but his entire body seemed to do its best to prevent him from moving at all. He shivered involuntarily, feeling all clammy and cold from transpiration. Even his jacket, which was covering him like a blanket, couldn't keep him warm. Murdock's mouth was dry, and he tried to lick his lips.  
He vaguely wondered if he'd accidentally swallowed a desert during the day.  
Maybe the Sahara...? Although, the Mohave desert would be more likely since it was closer-by.  
It was odd though since he couldn't really remember doing such a peculiar thing. Murdock frowned slightly at his own somewhat confusing theory.

Darn. He needed to focus!  
Where was the big guy? And where was the colonel? Did he fall asleep again? He couldn't remember them leaving.  
Murdock forced himself to finally lift his heavy eyelids. Why was it so damn difficult?  
The moment he opened his eyes, he had to close them again. Even though he was laying in the shadows, the bright light of the sky was temporarily blinding him. Murdock managed to squint instead and looked up at the entangled tree branches above his head. They were contrasting sharply against the bright blue sky above him.  
Murdock tried to lift his head before realizing the flaw in his plan. A small whimper escaped his lips when a white hot pain made him slump back to the ground.

"H-hold your horses H.M.," Murdock whispered with hitching breath.

It took him a minute to compose himself before turning his head sidewards instead. Even that little movement made him wheeze for air.  
Why didn't his body want to cooperate? Everything seemed so unfocused and wobbly, and a feeling of nausea crept over him. He figured he was lying somewhere on a dry and sandy surface with grass, half-hidden under the branches of a bush. Had he been left there alone? Were the guys in trouble?  
A little feeling of panic started to bubble up from his belly.

"Where have they ran off to, Billy?" Murdock hoarsely whispered to his invisible dog while trying to look around.

"You think they're in trouble?"

Billy didn't answer but merely wagged his tail at him while making a small whining sound.  
Murdock slowly managed to lift a heavy arm from under his jacket and reached out to scratch his trusty dog behind the ears.

" 'S okay. There's a good boy," he rasped.

Considering the fact that everything around him looked like a hazy blur, for some reason Billy's appearance was clearer than ever. The trusty dog always seemed to be there whenever Murdock felt scared or alone. The wounded man was thankful that he wasn't all by himself now. It made his decision less difficult.  
He'd decided it would be for the best if the guys left him there. That way he didn't have to fight it any longer. The guys were better off without him anyway. He was slowing them down.

"I guess our journey stops here, Billy", Murdock hissed through clenched teeth when another painful throb coursed through his body.

"And' s all'right" he exhaled with slurred tongue. "'Cause we're together."

Finally giving in to fatigue and pain, Murdock's eyes closed slowly.  
Despite his promise to the colonel, he realized he couldn't battle it much longer. And if the colonel wasn't there, he didn't feel the need.  
Murdock sighed and let his body and mind drift away into a dark pool of nothingness.

* * *

They hadn't left Murdock alone for long. The entrance of the mine was boarded up and the guys had been busy removing all the old shoring timber and rotting wood boards before they could enter it.  
When Hannibal and B.A returned to pick up the lanky pilot, they found him in a worsened state.  
His right arm still lay spread out on the sand where he'd been stroking his dog...

TBC


	5. Chapter 5 - Digging Deep

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey again. New chapter.  
I am still closely following the original script, but things will change in the next chapter. I just didn't want to skip this part.  
Once you start something, you need to properly finish it too, right?

By the way. I had Murdock lay down on his back during his surgery, rather than laying on his stomach (the way it is in the episode).  
When watching the ep. I always wondered why it looked like he was having surgery on the backside of his shoulder. It didn't make sense to me. How could they remove the bullet from his back if there was no exit wound? (the bullet was still inside, right?). And you simply don't cut into healthy flesh and start digging on a happy hunch, if that makes sense.  
I figured that they might've chosen to position the actor that way for the camera. This way you can see his face during the scene.  
Laying him on his back made more sense to me. So I took the liberty to make that change.  
Do you have any theories on this scene by any chance? I'd love to hear them.

Anyway,  
please take my version of this story with a grain of salt. It's just an interpretation of the original thing. I simply enjoy writing and sharing it ;)

Like always, thanks for reviews, comments & follows. They're appreciated.  
Have a lovely Sunday!

* * *

Chapter 5 - Digging Deep

They found two old mine lanterns that still contained enough oil to be lit. With the little bit of light available, Hannibal helped B.A to get Murdock comfortable. Lying down on the hard stony ground was not an option, and B.A decided to sit down and let the shivering man lean on him instead.  
When he settled down, B.A could feel the hot temperature radiating from Murdock's body. It was making him uncomfortable, realizing how critical the situation was becoming. The man was running a high fever and was sweating heavily, which meant he was slowly getting dehydrated during the process. Another problem to worry about.

Hannibal tried to give the pilot another sip of water from a canteen, but it just ran down the man's lips. They were having more and more trouble to wake him up.

"He's burning up, Hannibal." B.A said while using his handkerchief to wipe the sweat off Murdock's face.

"He's gonna die if we don't get him to a hospital and get that wound cleaned out!"

Hannibal handed B.A a cartridge holder and glanced wistfully at Murdock.

"I'll go back to the ranger station and try to find Face and Tawnia. Hopefully, they managed to lay their hands on those medical supplies."

Hannibal sighed, putting another cartridge holder in his own pocket.

"If I don't find them... I'll bring Decker".

B.A scowled but nodded in understanding.  
The muscular sergeant watched Hannibal disappear through the old mine entrance and wondered how they would ever get out of this situation alive. And he meant 'all' of them!

"Hold on, Murdock," he said quietly, wiping Murdock's face again.

He looked around the gloomy and moist cavern.  
The lanterns were casting pitch black shadows on the roughly shaped walls. This place wouldn't do the injured man any good. The sergeant sure hoped that the Colonel would find Face and Tawnia fast!

* * *

"Hm? Is it night already?" Murdock thought in alarm when he groggily emerged from a deep sleep and noticed the lack of light around him.

His eyes were still closed, but he sensed it was definitely darker than before. He must've drifted off again. Did he sleep for long?  
He realized he was not lying in the grass anymore either. Someone must've moved him again, and he was now leaning on, or against, something warm. Or should he say 'someone'?  
He felt the dabbing of a handkerchief on his forehead, accompanied by a familiar tingling sound of gold that instantly calmed him down. The big guy...

"B...B.A..?" Murdock said feebly.

"Huh?" B.A said when Murdock addressed him, actually relieved to hear the man talk.

"Don't you 'B.A' me, fool. I don't want no crazy man calling my name!".

Affirmative. It was B.A alright.  
The injured pilot noticed he was propped up and leaning heavily against the muscular man. His right arm dangled over a knee. Someone had covered him up with his jacket again. But the intense cold never really left his body.  
A medley of emotions was racing through Murdock's mind.  
Relieved that the guys hadn't abandoned him.  
If B.A was there, the colonel surely would be close by too. He could've known they wouldn't leave him like that. But the fact that they hadn't presented a feeling of absolute fear at the same time. What if his friends got caught because of him? He would never forgive himself.  
Deep inside he knew he was not going to hold on for much longer.

The lanky pilot wanted to tell B.A to go. Why didn't they just leave him...? But there was no chance of interrupting the big man who was still grumping at him.

"...Always saying things that irritate me, dragging me on planes! I still owe you for the time…" B.A continued.

"Nope, definitely _no way_ to interrupt the mudsucker." Murdock thought wearily.

He didn't have the energy to say more or concentrate on B.A's ramblings which were slowly tuning out anyway.  
Murdock wished he could reply, but it was of no use. His head lolled forward, and his body went limp.

B.A abruptly stopped talking and his eyes filled with dread when he noticed the pilot's body slump down on him. He had only been provoking the man a little. He'd actually been relieved to hear Murdock talk. But at the same time, he wanted the man to save his energy and shut up. He never was a good talker like Face was, so he did what he did best. He told the crazy man off. But what had he done?  
He carefully shook the pilot.

"Murdock..?" B.A said hesitantly, dropping his tough act.

Murdock didn't respond.

B.A licked his lips and looked around the abandoned mine, not sure what to do. The dark shadows moved eerily from the flickering lights of the lanterns. He was alone with the fool, and a terrible thought occurred to him that the man had finally given up the fight. Was Murdock going to die in his arms? Please no!

"Hey buddy...? Come on..." B.A tried again, more insistent now.

No reaction.  
Was he still breathing? B.A listened but didn't hear it. Panic started to take over.

"Come on, Murdock! I ain't gonna let you down, man!" Fear was evident in his voice now.

"You're my friend!"

Still no response.

"Murdock, come on!" B.A repeated, shaking the man a little harder.

"You know I was jus' playin' about that crazy bit. Come on, buddy. Fight it!"

He felt so bad for snapping at Murdock. He wanted to take it all back.

"Please don't die on me. Please don't die on me," was all the big guy could think.

* * *

Just as B.A was getting more desperate, Hannibal walked in, together with Face and Tawnia. Face's eyes widened when he saw the state of his friend, but immediately put down the medical kit and started preparations.  
No time to waste.  
Tawnia stayed a bit behind, observing the scene with an angsty expression on her face, not sure how to help.

Hannibal had been incredibly lucky to stumble into Face and Tawnia the moment he walked out of the mine.  
They'd been driving slowly in the area near the entrance, looking for traces of the team and avoiding the big roads with the searching MP's.  
Hannibal ran as fast as he could and managed to intercept them right before they drove off again. Shere luck! The colonel experienced another jolt of relief when he found out they'd managed to lay their hands on the medical kit.

"Got it right from under their noses," Face had told him proudly.

Hannibal couldn't help but chuckle at that.  
Decker's face, after finding out about the stolen supplies, would've been a great treat. But he needed to focus. He had more important things on his mind right now.  
Despite the satisfaction of laying their hands on the much needed medical kit, Hannibal had an unsettling feeling lurking in his belly. Call it gut instinct. For some reason, it all seemed too easy. Hannibal knew that Decker would try with all his might to be a step ahead of him at any given moment.  
But that was a problem for later. They had the supplies, and he needed to tend to Murdock's wound right away before it was too late. The clock was ticking for his injured pilot.

Entering the mine and seeing Murdock's state, Hannibal's spirits sank almost immediately. He hoped he could pull this one off. He had to operate on the man under rather questionable circumstances. What if he killed him? Hannibal braced himself. There was no alternative. If the wound wasn't going to receive treatment right away, the injured man would die anyhow. It was choosing between a rock and a hard place.  
Composing himself for the umpteenth time that day, he quickly calmed down his sergeant, who seemed on the edge of a breakdown himself.

"It's all right, BA It's gonna be all right," Hannibal said with a soft and (he hoped) reassuring voice.

Hannibal checked Murdock's pulse and noticed the increased heart rate.

More urgently he continued: "He's too weak to be moved. We don't have any choice."

Hannibal handed Face his hunting knife and Face started disinfecting it. The colonel carefully helped B.A move Murdock back onto the stretcher on the ground. The man didn't even open his eyes.  
Hannibal quickly removed his gloves and started disinfecting his hands.

"I'll have to get that slug out with everything it took in with it," he mumbled while removing Murdock's shirt and the bandages covering the injury.

The wound looked awful. The area around the entrance had turned an angry purplish-red color, and some yellow looking liquid other than blood had been building up underneath the skin. There was swelling noticeable around the edges. It looked quite painful and Hannibal knew he had to drain out the wound first. Not a pretty sight.  
Face's suppressed the urge to recoil when he saw the wound. It didn't look good at all.  
Tawnia and B.A both took a lantern to provide the colonel with much-needed light. Hannibal closed his eyes for a split second, took a steadying breath and started cutting.

* * *

Decker smiled grimly, observing the empty spot on the wall in the ranger station.  
So, his theory had been confirmed. The A-team was hiding in the area with a _wounded man_. And by the looks of it, they were desperate enough to risk capture and steal the medical kit right from under their watchful eyes.  
Captain Crane's mind was completely boggled. He kept staring at the empty wall, taking off his cap to scratch his head.  
But Decker wasn't at all surprised. The A-team was known for their cunning wit, but most of all for their guts. Today they've shown the MP's once more what they were capable of.

"I simply can't believe that one of the A-team would just walk in here and take that medical kit out". Crane said again.

"And _literally_ while we were standing around watching, Colonel!" Crane continued, staring at Decker with a mixture of exasperation and admiration in his voice.

Decker nodded, placing his hands on his hips with a contemplative expression on his face.

"If I have learned anything about the A-team, it's to expect the unexpected," he said with a calm voice.

But this time Decker knew he was a step ahead of the three fugitives.

A soldier came in running to confirm that the bug they'd planted in the medical kit was working.  
Decker nodded and motioned Crane to follow him outside. Stepping into their car, Decker checked the beeping homer's receiver in his hands. They were close in range. It was finally time to capture the A-team.

"This time it's checkmate, Smith," Decker smiled wryly to himself.

The MP car drove off with skidding wheels and wailing sirens.

* * *

Murdock lay on his back, moaning silently. He was too weak to move his body and do anything but flinch. He had his head turned away from the shoulder wound that Hannibal was operating on. Sweat dripped from his face. The pain was indescribable. He wished he could sink back into oblivion, but at the same time, he fought hard to stay awake and stay with the team, too afraid he might drift off for good this time. The colonel was here, and the rest had done everything in their power to help him. He couldn't abandon his unit now. He had to fight.

With a steady hand, the colonel opened up the infected wound and soon found the bullet that had driven itself deeply into the tissue.  
With a set of tweezers, he carefully started digging it out.

When he finally got hold of it, he removed it and tossed the wretched bullet away with disgust.  
Then the hardest part started. The colonel needed to cut away the infected tissue around the bullet entrance, but he didn't want to cause more damage to muscle, nerves, and veins. Hannibal had been tuning out on Murdock's gasps and moans. It was the only way he could deal with the situation and concentrate. There were no painkillers or other ways to relieve the captain's agony, and Murdock panted and took hitched painful breaths during the whole process.

Finally (after what seemed like hours to the wounded man) the colonel cleaned up the wound and poured a large amount of disinfectant over it to prevent more bacteria from getting in.  
Hannibal couldn't close it up, but there were plenty of sterile gauzes. The colonel hoped with all his heart that he didn't make matters worse. This would have to do until they could get the man to a hospital for proper help.

"I guess this is the best I can do for now," Hannibal said, cleaning the blood off his hands.

He looked up and noticed that all eyes were watching him expectantly.  
What would be their next move?


	6. Chapter 6 - Wrapping Up

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey! It's been a while since I last updated. Sorry for my delayed replies on PM's.  
Life caught up with me and I didn't have time to finish this chapter nor visit FF. But I'm back.  
In the meantime; thanks again for supporting this retelling. I love reading the feedback you left and noticed some new follows (thanks!)  
Next chapter will be a challenging one for me. No more original script to use for a while and I hope to live up to your expectations (if you even had any - uh oh) ^_^

* * *

Chapter 6 - Wrapping up

After dressing Murdock's wounds and cleaning up, Hannibal slowly rose from his crouched position with popping knees and an aching back.  
Suddenly he felt rather stiff and old, and a small sigh escaped his lips. While pulling on his leather gloves, he felt the suspense hanging in the air and looked up at his team members again.

The others were silently studying the colonel with worried but eager eyes.  
They were waiting for new orders and ready to get into gear when needed. But to Hannibal's own frustration his mind felt as blank as a piece of paper. He didn't have a plan!

The pressure was dawning on him like an anvil and he felt like the situation was backsliding on him. Right now, their first priority was getting out of the area and getting Murdock to a hospital. But how..? Hannibal's mind was racing. Due to all the accumulating events, the situation had turned from bad to worse.  
If he'd been able to treat Murdock immediately, then maybe the unfortunate pilot wouldn't have been in such a dreadful condition as he was in right now. He could've cleaned out the wound before it started infecting and they could've paid Maggie Sullivan (his doctor friend) a visit for further treatment. But going to her office in Bad Rock wasn't an option anymore. Not for now at least.  
The pilot needed surgery, antibiotics, fluids, and most important of all; blood. Hannibal knew that Maggie wouldn't have all the essential requirements to help his injured man now. And he had to think of the others too. How could he keep them all safe? Was there even a way to escape the area that would be swamped by military police by now? Hannibal wished he had a cigar. It always helped him think. He folded his arms and turned his back to the staring eyes while looking around for any inspiration.  
Noting the thoughtful and worried expression on Hannibal's features, Face decided to give the man a break and averted his gaze to the medical equipment box in front of him. The colonel needed some time to think.  
Face started cleaning up and put back the supplies into the medical kit. They had to remove any evidence of their stay, plus the supplies might be useful again later on. Tawnia, who was in need of having something to do as well, put down her lantern and started helping the conman. Face nodded appreciatively at her and gave her the hunting knife to clean. Meanwhile, he kept throwing worried glances at Murdock. The injured man had closed his eyes. Face wasn't even sure if his friend was still conscious as he lay very still looking gaunt as a ghost. Face's gaze met with B.A's, who'd crouched down beside the pilot to mop his sweaty brow. For a brief few seconds, their eyes locked in a moment of understanding. They would give Hannibal some time to think while tending to the pilot and doing whatever else was necessary.  
Face sighed and started concentrating on his task again. Suddenly his eyes fell on something shiny in the medical kit that didn't seem to belong there. It looked like a small metal tracking device.  
Uh oh.

"B.A," Face said with sudden urgency in his voice. "Have a look at this!".

The Sergeant, who was immediately alerted, leaned over Murdock and picked up the bug from Face's hands with a frown.

"Dang, it's a homer transmitter," he muttered while moving the object between his fingers.

Tawnia looked up in alarm and Face's eyes widened, but the Colonel, who'd turned around again, merely nodded. He'd expected something like this to happen, and he was almost happy that it did because their sudden limited timeframe had sent his weary brain a creative impulse.

"What are we gonna do, Hannibal?" B.A scowled. "Shall I get the van?"

"No" Hannibal said, squatting down beside Murdock and quickly buttoning up his shirt. "I think I have a plan, but we need to be quick."

When he didn't get an immediate response from the team members, he added matter of factly: "Murdock needs to become Face".

The others looked at Hannibal in surprise as Hannibal quickly explained.

"Decker probably assumes that we're operating with the three of us and that Murdock is at the VA. He might already know that you've tagged along with us, Miss Baker," Hannibal said, looking pointedly at Tawnia who nodded silently.

Tucking in Murdock's shirt but leaving part of the bandages visible, he continued:  
"Decker doesn't expect Murdock to be here, so that gives us an advantage."

Looking up at Face he added with a small grin: "And Murdock here would be very disappointed with us if we didn't make use of that perfect disguise that you so conveniently snatched from the MP's."

Face, still dressed as a soldier, looked down at his commander with a smirk.

"So...long story short," Hannibal concluded, with a stern look at his audience, "Murdock has to become Face and stat!"

The group agreed, finally understanding the plan, and started moving around while Hannibal gave them orders.

"B.A, you stay with me. I need your help.  
Tawnia, go back to the van and hide Murdock's jacket and cap."

The reporter swiftly gathered Murdock's things and hurried off.

"Face, you..," Hannibal turned to the conman, but Face interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

"I'm gonna find him some other shoes," he said while getting up to follow Tawnia.

"Those sneakers might give him away. Decker has been visiting him too many times at the VA, and he's always wearing the same things."

Hannibal nodded. "Good point, lieutenant. Get it done".

The colonel grabbed a few big bandage rolls from the medical kit and crouched down beside the unconscious pilot.

"B.A, I need you to lift his head for me. I'll have to cover his face with the bandages, so he can't be recognized".

B.A nodded. Sitting down on his knees, he gingerly lifted Murdock's head and helped Hannibal wrapping it.  
For a moment Murdock gained consciousness and opened his eyes with a small gasp not grasping what was happening around him.  
Noticing the panic in the pilot's feverish eyes, Hannibal quickly shushed him.

"It's okay kid. It's okay. Don't worry. We're gonna get you out of here. I'm going to cover your eyes with a bandage now. No time to explain. Please close them for me, okay?"

Murdock uttered a small sob of understanding and closed his eyes before Hannibal covered them. The older man hoped he could keep his word to the captain while covering the rest of the man's face.

B.A frowned as he looked down at the bandaged head of the crazy fool.  
If Murdock had been in a better condition, he would've had _such_ a kick out of it. No doubt he'd be bouncing around, sharing lame mummy jokes while milking the situation for what it was worth. It would probably be something along the lines of: "Why are mummies so stressed all the time? That's because they're all wound up!"  
You know... the type of jokes nobody laughs at, except for the fool. B.A sighed.

"You better survive sucker, or I'll have to get very VERY angry with you...," He thought silently.

In the meantime, both Face and Tawnia returned to the cavern.  
Face had taken off Murdock's shoes and gave them to Tawnia who left again to hide them in the van along with the medical kit.  
Despite the dreadfulness of the situation, Face couldn't prevent a chuckle when he noticed Murdocks' old worn-out tennis socks. Both big toes were sticking out like a beacon, and suddenly Face understood the random comment he'd heard Murdock utter that morning. The crazy man had said something about it being an 'Easy-breezy-toe-day'.  
Face's smile faded again when he hurriedly put his own design loafers on Murdock's feet. Thank god they both shared about the same foot size, though Face noticed the shoes were a little tight. He hoped Murdock wasn't too uncomfortable. The conman made a mental note to buy his buddy a whole batch of new socks before he was going home...  
That was... IF he was going home...

"Damn, I shouldn't think like that," Face reprimanded himself angrily.

His grim thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a panicky cry.

"They're coming!" Tawnia yelled while hurrying back into the mine. "I hear their sirens, they're very close!"

Hannibal instantly stood up and gave Murdock one last check-up.  
At first glimpse, the injured man could easily be mistaken for Face. His features were unrecognizable with his entire head covered in bandages, his shirt was neatly buttoned up, and he was wearing shiny loafers on his feet. All Murdock's usual trademarks were gone. Hannibal hoped that they could fool Decker, at least for the time being. It was going to be a long shot.

"Everybody take their positions." The colonel said calmly.

They waited silently while the sirens were getting closer and closer.

* * *

Decker was struggling slightly to keep from smirking.  
There was a growing sense of excitement mixed with adrenaline rushing through his veins as they came close to capturing the A-team. Decker checked the beeping homer's receiver one last time. They were here!  
As his car came to a halt, the two extra MP cars that had been tagging along parked right behind him.

"Finally...my moment of truth," Decker said while stepping out of the car.

Decker, accompanied by Crane and 5 more soldiers, explored the area for traces of the fugitives.  
They almost immediately spotted B.A's black van, half covered by large bundles of branches. Their rifles aimed, the soldiers checked the vehicle, only to find it unoccupied.

"Colonel! There's an old mine entrance here!", crane yelled.

"Back off!" Decker barked while retrieving a megaphone from his car.

The MP's started to surround the entrance of the abandoned mine with their weapons drawn.

"Smith? It's Colonel Decker. You're surrounded!"

* * *

Decker's voice boomed and echoed through the gloomy mine cavern. B.A, who was still sitting crouched down next to Murdock, looked up at Hannibal with a scowl on his face and slowly stood up.  
Tawnia appeared calm but was fidgeting slightly with her hands while staring at her feet. Face had followed Hannibal's orders and disappeared out of sight.  
Hannibal just waited in silence. To his relief, he felt a tiny sparkle of the jazz emerging from within. It was time to play his part, and, for the sake of the team, he had to do it exactly right. It was going to be a long shot, but they _had_ to try.

Again Decker's voice bounced around the stone walls of their gloomy hideout.

"I want you, and Peck and Baracus, and Miss Baker, if she's in there, to come out with your hands up. You have fifteen seconds!"

"Well, that's my cue," Hannibal said almost cheerfully. "See you in a bit, guys."

He sent an encouraging smile to B.A who stared at him with apprehension. Was this their moment of truth?

Hannibal emerged from the mine, both hands in the air, carrying his firearm belt in one of them.

"I have a wounded man in there! He needs immediate medical attention!" he said aloud, making sure everybody could hear him, (including the people inside the mine).

One of the soldiers quickly disarmed the older man while Captain Crane frisked him in search for more weapons. Finding none, he handcuffed the man. Decker slowly approached with a smirk on his face. Hannibal eyed him warily.

"Well.. It looks like you won, Colonel," he said, glaring at Decker with steely blue eyes.

"I'd say that was inevitable, wouldn't you?" Decker sneered back, taking his gun from his belt and pointing it at Hannibal.

"Turn around... inside!" he ordered.

Hannibal silently complied and went back inside the mine with Decker and the soldiers on his heels.

* * *

Decker scrutinized the back of the white-haired A-team commander while following him into the mine. His body and mind were vigilant, and he was ready to strike if Smith would be foolish enough to make an unsuspected move.  
But nothing happened.  
Colonel John Smith just calmly stepped inside the mine without any tricks or foolish acts. It was almost boring.  
Decker contemplated whether the man had another trick up his sleeve or if he'd finally ran out of them. Maybe the wounded A-team member was in too much of a critical condition to play tricks with the MP's anyway.

Upon entering the mine, Decker briefly squinted his eyes to adjust to the dim light. He immediately recognized the bulky contours of sergeant B.A Baracus and the slimmer silhouette of the reporter Tawnia Baker. But where was Peck?  
The soldiers started handcuffing B.A, who, to Decker's surprise, didn't show any sign of resistance.  
Then the colonel detected the shadowy figure lying motionlessly on the ground. He scowled noticing the head bandages and the gauze peeking out from under the shirt. Decker looked up at Hannibal who was staring back at him with a rigid posture and a fierce expression in his eyes. It was clear that he wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing any weakness or emotions.

"What's the matter with Peck here," Decker said.

Hannibal didn't avert his piercing stare when answering him. But even though he was taking on a defensive stance, Decker recognized the worry and urgency in the other man's voice.

"He's got some bad powder burns," Hannibal replied. "A gun exploded right in his face. And he's got a shoulder wound. Real bad!"

Decker scrutinized the fugitive Colonel for a second before addressing the soldier standing next to him.

"Check him, sergeant. I'm not in the mood for any tricks."

The sergeant crouched down and felt Murdock's pulse. Noticing his hot skin and the raging heartbeat, he confirmed:

"He's in pretty bad shape, sir."

"He needs blood," Hannibal added urgently.

Decker made a quick decision. It didn't seem like Smith was trying to trick them. His gut told him that the other colonel wasn't faking this. And how could he?  
He'd also noticed the way B.A and Tawnia kept glancing at the injured man with worried expressions on their faces. Even the bulky sergeant had dropped his tough act. Their concern seemed genuine too. He was almost feeling sorry for them... Almost...

"Have this man moved to the A-team van," Decker said with a firm voice.

Turning to Hannibal, he muttered with an air of triumph in his voice: "Why didn't you fight your way out?"

Not getting a response, he added, "After you lieutenant-colonel Smith."

Hannibal just gave him a cold stare before turning and moving outside the mine, followed closely by Tawnia and B.A.

Inside the mine, the soldiers prepared to transport the gurney with Murdock to the van. One of the men was just about to pick up the handles when another soldier stepped around the wooden shores.

"I got that, corporal." The man said with authority in his voice. He remained half hidden in the shadows of the cavern, taking advantage of the dim lights from the lanterns.

"Make sure the van doors are open."

The corporal nodded and walked outside. The new soldier (of course it was Face), kept up his poker face as he lifted the gurney with the help from another soldier, and headed for the exit.  
The conman realized he'd been holding his breath and exhaled inaudibly. His bluff had gone unnoticed, and he was feeling both astonished and relieved realizing that the soldiers hadn't paid him much attention.

"Probably too excited about capturing the A-team," he thought thankfully. It was up to Hannibal to convince Decker for their next move.

While stepping into the bright sunlight, Face could hear Hannibal's quiet voice asking Decker if they could ride along in the van.

"...He may not make it. We'd like to be there just in case," Hannibal said.

Face's stomach twisted, knowing it wasn't even that far from the truth.

"Please, let the man have a heart," Face silently pleaded when not immediately hearing an answer.

His own heart almost skipped a beat when he heard Decker reluctantly say: "Put them in the van.."

Seeing the others step inside, Face quickly followed with the gurney, laying Murdock down on the floor of the vehicle with the help of the other soldiers.

"I'll drive, you watch the prisoners…" the conman said while readjusting his helmet to hide his face behind his hand.

One of the younger soldiers had been scrutinizing the lieutenant a tad bit too long to his taste now they were out in the open.

Face quickly walked around the van and stepped into the driver's seat. One of the soldiers had already settled himself in the passenger's seat. He leaned over the backrest of the chair while aiming his rifle at the prisoners in the back. Hannibal who sat closest to the corporal briefly glanced at Face. Face knew it was his cue.

"Hey, do you have the keys to start this thing?" Face asked the soldier nonchalantly.

The man turned his head to look at Face in surprise and was about to point out that the keys were already in the ignition when his breath was caught short by Hannibal who caught the man in a fierce chokehold. In a rapid movement, the colonel overpowered the soldier by moving his handcuffed arms over his head and effortlessly holding him back in place. Thinking on his feet, Face grabbed the weapon from the startled man's hands and put them in Hannibal's.

"Open the door Face," Hannibal panted over the struggling corporal. The lieutenant hurriedly leaned forward over the two men and opened the door at the passenger's side before quickly starting the engine. It was now or never!

Decker was just ending a call with the MP's main office to confirm they'd captured the A-team. Lowering the radio phone with a pleased smile, he shook hands with Crane who congratulated him.  
But his smile didn't last long.  
Suddenly the A-team van jerked and reversed with skidding wheels.

"What the... They're getting away!" Decker yelled.

Turning the steering wheel, Face stopped just long enough for Hannibal to hurl the soldier out of the vehicle and aim the rifle at the startled MP's. As Hannibal started firing, Face pushed his foot on the accelerator as hard as he could.  
The MP's ducked behind their cars, giving Colonel Smith clear aim at the tires. Decker, unwilling to yield, dropped the radio phone on the ground and pulled his gun to fire back. He cursed as his shots were quickly answered with another salvo of bullets, and he ran for cover. The radio phone spun through the air as it was hit with a lucky shot, originally meant for the tires.  
The black van drove away with a roaring engine and disappeared into the distance, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust.  
Decker scowled as he emerged from his crouched position and checked the damage. Crane approached him with a shocked expression on his face, waiting for orders. The unfortunate soldier lay on the ground moaning.  
The A-team had escaped from their clutches again!  
And worse!  
They were now stuck in the middle of nowhere without enough spare tires to fix their cars. And from the looks of the smoldering device on the ground, their only ways of communication had been blasted to pieces.  
Decker realized with a bitter taste in his mouth that he'd just informed the head office of their successful capture of the A-team and that he'd turned down the offer for backup.  
Cursing again he slammed his hand on the roof of his car.

"Next time Smith...," he thought. "Next time I won't be so generous..."

TBC


	7. Chapter 7 - Emergency Pit Stop

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey again. Well, here starts the part where I am filling in quite a time gap.  
And I am hoping the story will still be entertaining.  
No pressure, right? *bites nails*  
By the way, I keep saying this: THANKS for the fun PM's and reviews. Makes it all encouraging to write more.  
Hope you'll enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 7 - Emergency Pit Stop

The engine of the A-team van roared as Face navigated it full speed over a slightly rutted dirt road that ran through the thick woodland.  
He still couldn't believe that they'd just escaped the Military Police, AGAIN.  
Adrenaline still rushed madly through his veins while an unexpected feeling of joy kicked in. But there was no time for cheering or pats on the shoulder.  
They weren't out of the woods yet. Quite literally even.  
His first priority was to create as much distance as possible between Decker and the team. He wasn't sure if the colonel managed to disable all of their cars. And if he hadn't...well...Face didn't want to think about it.

As Face made another sharp turn on the bumpy road, all passengers instinctively held on to something to prevent themselves from falling from their seats. The conman kept checking the side view mirrors to see if they were being followed. But to his great relief, the trail behind them stayed clear.  
Meanwhile, the road wasn't getting any better, and with their current speed, Face couldn't possibly avoid all the gaps and bumps.

"Hey! Careful with my wheels, man!" B.A cried while trying to keep himself from tumbling over Murdock, who lay rocking on the floor.

B.A sat next to him on his knees and was just placing a folded fleece blanket under the pilot's head when the van rocketed through a particularly big bump in the road. Face flinched involuntarily.

"I can't exactly do much about our current road conditions now, can I!" he protested bitterly.

Nevertheless, he tried to slow down a little, glancing guiltily over his shoulder to get a glimpse of his injured friend.  
Hannibal, who had been eyeing Murdock with a worried expression from the passenger's seat turned around to face the agitated driver.

"Face, do you happen to have the key on you?" The colonel asked, holding up his handcuffed hands.

Keeping one hand on the steering wheel and his eyes on the road, Face rummaged through the pockets of his stolen uniform and produced a small pin-shaped metal object.

"Here," he said, handing the key to Hannibal who beamed at him.

"Excellent, I knew I could count on you."

Face sent the older man a wanly smile before focusing back on the road.  
Hannibal turned around to Tawnia who, fortunately, hadn't been restrained by the MP's.

"Miss Baker, if you'd be so kind..," Hannibal said handing the keys to the young reporter who swiftly released him from his cuffs with a flick of the wrist.

Hannibal raised his eyebrows. "You're rather good with handcuffs," He observed, gingerly rubbing his own wrists.

"Yeah, well...," Tawnia murmured, and a small blush appeared on her cheeks.

Not eager to explain the older man that she actually owned a set for fun personal use, she quickly turned around and balanced her way into the back of the van to release B.A from his handcuffs.

"Can we remove the bandages?", Tawnia asked while crouching down beside Murdock, not sure what to do next.

Murdock's face was still covered in white, and it gave her the chills. She looked up to see the back of Hannibal's head who was now bending over a roadmap on his knees.

"Yes, please do," Hannibal answered while giving Face road directions.

B.A instantly moved over to Murdock's head and lifted it carefully so Tawnia could remove the white gauzes.  
The young reporter swallowed hard. The still pilot didn't show any sign of awareness. His face was gaunt as ever and his lips were pale. Despite the coverage of bandages, his face was all clammy, and his head lolled to the side when they were done. B.A noted that Murdock's breaths had become fast and shallow.  
Tawnia reached for the pilot's jacket which she'd hidden earlier and covered the injured man with it, hoping it would keep him warm.  
B.A lay a hand on Murdock's arm, telling him to hang in there, but there wasn't any sign his friend could hear him. Scowling in frustration, B.A stood up and with stomping feet made his way to the driver's seat.  
He was done with feeling useless!

"Get out of ma chair. I'm drivin'!" he barked at Face.

The conman immediately pulled over with a look of relief in his eyes and moved out of the way without protesting.  
The big guy was a better driver than he was, and now he could finally hurry and check on his buddy.

The bejeweled man sat down in his seat and pushed his foot on the gas pedal, feeling much better now he was back behind the steering wheel.

"Where to, Hannibal?" he grunted while focusing on the road. "Hospital?"

"Yes, we're heading south to the River Dale Hospital," Hannibal replied. "Should be about forty miles from here. But we still need to avoid the main roads." He added with a worried glance over his shoulder at Murdock, wondering how long his man would last.  
It would take them another 20 to 30 minutes to get there, at least.

Face sat down on the floor beside Murdock and put his index finger and middle finger on the side of the pilot's neck.  
He checked his watch and counted... Too fast, his heart rate was getting way too fast...

"How is he, Face?" Hannibal inquired, seeing the devastated expression on his lieutenant's face.

"Not well Hannibal, we need to hurry. I think he's going into shock," Face said, urgency in his voice now.

Hannibal turned around to look at him. Blue eyes meeting blue eyes.  
B.A shot an alarmed look at Hannibal and accelerated the van even more.  
Thank god they were getting closer to civilization, as the road conditions were improving rapidly.

"Going to the hospital is going to be risky, isn't it?" Tawnia asked timidly while settling down in Murdock's usual seat. "What if Decker has his men stationed there?"

"That's a risk we have to take!" Hannibal replied gravely, looking at the map again and giving B.A new instructions.

"We need to get him into the E.R as fast as possible, but we need to stay off everybody's radar at the same time. That will be quite a challenge since gunshot victims are instantly being reported to the police."

The colonel glanced out of the front window with a distant look in his eyes. Tawnia noticed how weary the man looked.  
A silence fell over the occupants of the van, and for a few seconds, the only thing audible was the roaring engine and the sound of the wheels on the dirt road.

"Maybe we should just throw caution at bay and barge in. Come what may...," Hannibal said briskly, breaking the silence with a bitter tone in his voice.

He didn't want to risk Murdock's life any longer. The man had saved his life, he owned him that!

"My niece works at the E.R in the Los Angeles County General Hospital," Tawnia said pensively. "She told me that it's quite common for gangs to drop off their injured gang members at the entrance of the Emergency room..."

The clouds in Hannibal's eyes seemed to vanish slowly as he absorbed her words. When the Colonel looked at Tawnia, she could almost see the gears in his brains whirling at a fast pace.

"That actually gives me an idea..." Hannibal said with renewed energy. "Thanks kid!"

Face looked up hopefully at his commander who stood up and crouched down next to him to feel Murdock's warm forehead.

"How far is it, B.A?" Hannibal addressed the muscular sergeant.

" 'Bout 20 miles. Saw a road sign just a sec ago," B.A answered.

"Okay, good. We have to be quick then." Hannibal said, glancing at the pilot while silently encouraging him to hold on. He paused for a second, then made a decision.

"Guys, listen up, I think I have a plan. It's going to be another long shot, but it's worth a try."

* * *

Face was sitting on a rickety chair in the emergency waiting room of the Riverside Hospital. After searching the ward, he was relieved to see that there weren't any MP's lurking around.  
Earlier, the conman had swapped his MP uniform for a pair of jeans and a tidy buttoned up dress shirt. He'd put on a fake mustache from Hannibal's make-up kit and added a pair of glasses to complete his disguise.  
His new look was rather casual but also gave him a somewhat trustworthy appearance. He could be a dad, or perhaps a well-respected businessman on a day off.  
To the few people sitting around him in the waiting room, Face was just another patient (or family member), waiting to be called by one of the nurses.  
Casually flicking through a random magazine about cars, the conman checked his watch.  
They were right on schedule.  
Almost show time.

Apparently, it was a calm evening at the E.R. The conman sort of expected it to be swamped with people like he'd seen in L.A. But nothing like that was happening here. Of course, this wasn't L.A. and this wasn't a big city hospital either.  
Face looked up at the nurse station and noticed to his satisfaction that Tawnia had taken her position too. She appeared to be busy with a pile of folders, trying to avoid any attention from the passing doctors and nurses in the corridor.  
Even from a distance, Face could see the tension in her body and hoped nobody else would notice.  
"Please keep it together, Tawnia," he pleaded silently, hoping everything would play out the way it was planned.  
The head nurse sat at the front counter of the nurse station, answering phone calls and calling out the names of the patients when it was their turn to be examined. Tawnia sort of hovered behind the woman and Face hoped with all his might that the head nurse was too busy to notice.  
All with all, Face had to admit that the young reporter had done an excellent job disguising herself. It amazed the conman how little adjustments were needed to change her appearance completely.  
In the van, she'd already fixed her usually so carefully styled hair into a tight bun behind her head. She'd removed most of her eye make-up and picked a particularly ugly pair of big, black-rimmed glasses from Hannibal's props cabinet.  
Tawnia was now fully dressed in a white nurse uniform, completed with a pair of unfashionable hospital clogs and name tag. A complete outfit that they'd manage to 'acquire' from the staff's locker room.  
After dressing up they'd both slipped into the E.R waiting room, taking their places and waiting for their cue.

Face glanced sideways at the automatic sliding doors of the emergency room. He had to force himself not to look at it too obviously. That would make him suspicious.  
A little earlier the entrance of the E.R had been buzzing like a beehive when an ambulance brought in two victims of a car accident. But now all was quiet again, and the parking driveway was vacant, which was perfect.

Any time now...

* * *

Hannibal checked his watch impatiently while drumming his fingers restlessly on the steering wheel of the van. Dusk was setting in now, and the sky had turned from deep blue to orange-red. The older man was sitting in the driver's seat waiting for B.A to return. Almost time now...

Without a warning, the side door of the van opened, and B.A barged in with his tool set, giving Hannibal the thumbs-up.

"All done," he muttered while glancing back apprehensively at Murdock who was now propped up in the seat behind him, still unconscious.

Hannibal had adjusted the backrest of the chair a little so the injured pilot would be more comfortable, and most importantly, wouldn't tumble out of it during their ride.  
Next stop: the E.R.

"It's time," Hannibal muttered.

As in sync, both men pulled a black forage cap over their heads revealing only their eyes and mouth. They looked at each other for a second and Hannibal nodded approvingly. The big guy had taken off all of his jewelry. He couldn't afford to be recognized at this point.

"Here we go!", Hannibal said, starting the engine, putting the car in gear and hitting the gas pedal.

B.A tensed up while concentrating on his next task.  
The black van emerged from behind a group of high growing bushes, growing next to the hospital parking lot, which had conveniently hidden them from view. The colonel steered sharply around a corner and sped up toward the Emergency ward.  
He hoped that he'd given Tawnia and Face enough time to take their positions, but he didn't dare the risk of waiting any longer.  
The wait had been agonizing, knowing that Murdock's condition was getting more critical with the second.  
Hannibal was afraid he'd been stretching the man's luck too much. But they had to give it a try, also for Murdock's sake. What use would they be to him when they were all imprisoned. Murdock would blame himself for that, and worse, it would probably drive him over the edge. Hannibal glanced at the pilot in the rear view mirror.  
Murdock's lips now had a blue tinge, and his heartbeat and breathing had increased in the last few minutes.  
It better be worth it!

The colonel steered the van in high speed over to the E.R driveway and stopped with shrieking tires.  
B.A instantly jumped out and jerked open the side door.  
Moving fast, he lifted Murdock out of the passenger's seat and carefully lay him down on the asphalt.

"I'm real sorry, man," he muttered with regret in his eyes.

Then he jumped back to his feet and leaped inside the van.  
Before B.A had time to slam the door shut, Hannibal already hit the gas pedal and sped away from the scene.

A small commotion was rising from inside the Emergency room.  
A man with gold-rimmed glasses and mustache stood among the crowd and shouted from the top of his lungs:

"OH MY GOD! They just kicked a man out of a car. He's bleeding. Oh my god! I saw it all happening! He's not moving. HELP HIM, QUICK!"

Two male orderlies ran outside to check out the injured man on the ground. Within a minute they lifted Murdock onto a gurney and wheeled him inside.  
To Face's relief, the triage nurse on duty instantly hurried over to see the new patient and determined the severity of his condition. Checking his pulse and breathing, she made a quick decision and ushered the orderlies to bring Murdock to the exam room.

"Good luck, buddy," Face muttered under his breath.

"Hang in there... please hang in there."


	8. Chapter 8 - Trapped in the dark

* * * NOTE * * *  
Wow, thanks for the new reviews on my previous chapter! I am thrilled that you still enjoy my musings.  
I decided to write this short chapter and add it to the story. I hope you'll enjoy Murdock's journey inside his mind. All this time he'd been more aware of the situation than we thought he was. Sharing a moment with a desperate Hannibal.

* * *

Chapter 8 - Trapped in the dark

Sounds...  
It was the one thing Murdock had been clinging onto the last passing hours. The terrible pain in his shoulder had spread down to his chest and finally consumed his body and mind.  
Despite the fact that Murdock promised his commander to stay with them, he'd steadily been slipping away into... into...  
Hm, let's see... Where ' _had_ ' he been slipping away into?  
The wounded pilot wasn't really sure 'where' or 'when' he was.  
Did that even make sense?  
He seemed to be part of a timeless atmosphere.  
Everything around him was dimly-lit and hazy. The lanky pilot was wondering how long he'd been there. It seemed like ages. Even the pain had dulled down. He could still feel it, but it wasn't as agonizing as it had been before. It had reduced itself to a rather annoying throbbing sensation.

If Murdock concentrated hard enough, he could make up shapes moving around him, but they all appeared to be a dark blur, like shadows on a wall. Except for Billy, his invisible dog with whom he'd been playing fetch for a while. Billy was as bright and clear as he'd ever been, cheerfully wagging his tail as he ran after the tennis ball Murdock was throwing for him. The pilot always carried one in the pockets of his aviator jacket, just in case his trusty dog made an appearance.

Even though he'd enjoyed his time with Billy, Murdock was longing to see his friends. It was peaceful here, but there was something eerie about the place too. He sort of knew he wasn't supposed to be there.  
There were voices. Soft, but worried voices. Murdock wished they weren't, but he couldn't say anything to put them at ease.  
Sometimes, if he focused hard enough, he could make out what they were saying too.  
He recognized the low grumbling voice of the big guy.

"Hold on, Murdock. I won't let you down buddy."

Buddy? What happened to 'fool'?

"We'll get you out of here. Just fight!"

"Aww, I just knew you cared about me! You big old squishy, big-hearted, marshmallow-man, you." Murdock grinned.

Such a pity he couldn't say this out loud without risking a black eye.  
The worry in his friend's voice made Murdock feel slightly awkward though. It was nothing like B.A to show his emotions like that. Especially not to the lanky pilot.  
Was Murdock the cause of this? Apparently, he was.

"Please, don't die on us," B.A suddenly muttered.

His voice had sounded quiet as if he didn't want anybody else to hear what he was saying.  
Murdock's grin faded. Was he dying? That surely wasn't part of the plan now, was it?

"Come on big guy, don't you worry about crazy ol' Howlin' Mad here," Murdock said. "You know me. I'm right as rain. Fine an' Dandy. Up to snuff!"

But B.A didn't respond, and the lanky pilot finally realized why.  
The big guy couldn't hear him because Murdock was stuck in his own mind, unable to respond to his friends.

"Great! As if we haven't been down _that_ road before..," Murdock said sulkily while pouting his bottom lip.

He dug his hands deep into his pants pockets and looked down at his feet, wondering if they would know a way out of here. He knew they'd done it before... though he also knew that his situation was slightly different this time.

Murdock's eyelids started to get heavy and he realized just how tired he felt.  
Nevertheless, there were still new voices and shadows moving around... He even heard the comforting humming sound of the van's engine in the background.  
Murdock recognized Face and Tawnia's voice, but he couldn't make up their words. He wanted to talk to Face desperately, but his concentration was fading and he was contemplating if he should close his eyes for a while.  
Hadn't the colonel told him to get some rest earlier that day? It would be fine, right?  
But for some reason, there was a nagging little voice in the back of his head warning him not to give in.

"Don't fall asleep!" it said

But why not?  
It wasn't helping that he was starting to feel chilly, and the lights around him were slowly dimming like dusk. Murdock shuddered involuntarily.  
He wondered why it was getting darker.  
Oh well. At least Billy was still there.

Murdock sighed, settling down on the ground and leaning his elbows heavily on his knees.  
He scratched the dog behind its ears. The pain in his chest started to increase again, and he felt slow and woozy. Billy whined and pushed his wet nose in Murdock's hand. Murdock chortled as the dog started to lick his fingers.

"Ew."

Suddenly he heard a familiar sound. Putting a finger to his mouth to silence Billy, he concentrated on the new voice.  
It was Hannibal!  
But something wasn't right. The colonel sounded rather displeased with him. Had he disappointed the man?

"Listen carefully, Captain. You are going to stay with us, and you're gonna survive this! You hear me?"

Murdock immediately scrambled back to his feet to stand at attention.

"Yessir!" he saluted with a somewhat bewildered expression on his face.

He sort of expected Hannibal to appear right in front of him from thin air, but nothing happened. Even Billy seemed confused.  
Murdock shrugged at the dog and concentrated on the colonel again. There was an authority in Hannibal's voice that was hard to ignore.

"I want you to fight, Murdock! I know you can do it!"

"Er..If you say so...?" Murdock mumbled, staring dubiously at the cold darkness that surrounded him.

"We haven't come back from 'Nam, and gone through all these trials and adventures together to lose you by the hands of some random sleazeball. Understood?" Hannibal said sternly.

Murdock nodded silently as his mind drifted off, remembering the things they'd seen. The horrible ordeals they'd all gone through together. The injustice they'd tried to make right... Was it all going to end here and now?  
Then Hannibal chuckled softly, snapping Murdock out of his ponderings again.

"Remember that talk we had when I first visited you at the V.A ten years ago?"

Yes, Murdock remembered it all right...

"You were having a bad day, and told me in confidence that you couldn't possibly work with us. You said you would be a danger to the team; a loose canon. You were terrified that you couldn't function during our missions with your hallucinations and intermittent memory loss."

There was a small silence before Hannibal continued.

"I remember clearly when you compared yourself with a kite. Flying around freely in the sky, far away from everybody, but without any control or direction. The wind could snatch and crush you at any given moment.  
That's how you felt. You didn't want to become a liability.  
That day I told you that I trusted you and that I... _we_...as a team, would be there for you, no matter what. I'm still holding the strings to the kite to keep you up in the air. I promised to protect you, and I won't let go, Captain. I'm keeping to that promise."

Murdock swallowed hard at these words. He wished he could talk back to the colonel.

"Right now, the others are working on a scam to get you admitted to the hospital.  
B.A will be back in a minute, so we are alone in the van for the moment. I am not sure if you can even hear me.  
But remember... We're all here for you Murdock. We won't give up on you. Just..,"

There was a short pause and a sigh...

"Just hold on, kid!" Hannibal said, his voice staggering a little.

"I will!" Murdock said, feeling strengthened by the Colonel's words.

Then he looked around and thought: "But to what?"

Darkness was steadily creeping in on him.


	9. Chapter 9 - A close call

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hey again. Wow I am on the roll this week with my updates. Sometimes there is this annoying thing that's called writer's block, but not this week. So I squeezed in some writing time and enjoyed it fully. Hope you'll enjoy my new chapter. It's perhaps a bit far fetched, and probably totally incorrect (since I actually know squat about hospital procedures of the 80's). But hey, it's fiction, right? I hope to get away with it unharmed.  
As always, thanks for reading and posting your comments. And a special **thanks to Tardis11** who always reads and comments, but whom I never got to thank personally, haha ;)  
Cheers!

* * *

Chapter 9 - A close call

There was a short shrieking sound of tires when the A-team van sped up and took a sharp turn at the parking lot of the Riverside hospital.  
The few people who'd witnessed the drop-off of the wounded man were staring after the vehicle. Some pointed at the van while others clasped their hands in front of their mouths watching the orderlies pick up the lifeless body of a man from the ground and wheeling him into the E.R.  
Nobody seemed to have noticed how the van momentarily slowed down while passing a road verge with high growing bushes. Nor did they see the sliding door open and a black-clad figure with forage cap leaping out. The man skillfully rolled under the foliage while the van picked up speed and headed for the exit before vanishing out of sight.  
B.A lay low under the bushes with a small backpack under his arm, making use of the darkening shadows.

Allowing himself to catch his breath and reassuring that nobody had seen him, he slowly got up and stealthily made his way to the back of the hospital building.  
The muscular mechanic was thankful that the evening was setting in. It was harder to spot him in the dusky light.  
Reaching the back of the hospital, B.A cautiously glanced around before opening the door of a small telecommunication building and quickly disappeared inside. Earlier that evening, he'd managed to break open the secured door and make some preparations on one of the installations inside. The bulky man sat down on his haunches, removed his cap, and opened the backpack. He quickly produced some small tools, wires, and a small blue telephone receiver which he skillfully installed onto the E.R switchboard of one of the wall-mounted communication boxes. This small but clever construction would divert all outgoing phone calls to B.A's receiver. All he had to do was wait for the call, and pick up.

* * *

Tawnia froze to the spot when she saw Murdock pass the nurse station on the gurney. He looked even worse than the last time she saw him in the van. If she didn't know better, she would've thought that the man on the gurney was dead already. The stack of folders in her hands trembled and her heart sank.  
Tawnia had to give herself a little shake.

"Keep it together girl..." she thought silently. "You can't fail them... and you can't fail Murdock!"

Her task was to keep an eye on the lanky pilot after being admitted. Disguised as a nurse, she could go 'backstage' so to speak and keep the guys up to date on his condition.

Tawnia blinked. She realized that she'd been standing still like a popsicle. Where did they go?  
The girl closed her eyes and took a calming breath to steady herself. Then she put the folders back on the table where she'd found them, and quickly left the nurse station. She walked into the corridor where she'd seen the orderlies go. But where had they taken Murdock?  
The young reporter passed a unit with hospital beds. Some of them were occupied by patients showing bandages and casts. Some had family members or friends gathered around them. Other beds had their curtains drawn for privacy. Tawnia ignored them all.  
Instinctively she knew that Murdock wouldn't be among them.  
She looked around and followed the sign for the trauma resuscitation unit down the corridor. For a split second, she hesitated when she found herself standing in front of the automatic doors leading to the resuscitation room. With clammy hands, Tawnia hit a big red button to open them and entered the unit. The young reporter wasn't quite prepared for the scene in front of her.

Glass walls separated her from the sterile treatment area.  
Even though she didn't have a proper view on Murdock with the medical personnel hurrying about, she could see that they'd transferred him onto a surgery table. An oxygen mask was covering most of his pale face. His bloodied clothes were cut away, laying abandoned on the ground, and it seemed as if his whole body was covered in tubes, patches, and needles. They connected him to a beeping machine that monitored his heart rate and other vital signs. A female doctor was working on him and checking his wound while the nurses were setting up IV fluids, blood, and antibiotics.  
Tawnia turned her back to the scene, feeling all shaky and nauseous. What if he didn't make it? What if they were too late? For a minute she just stood there with trembling knees, wishing she was braver.  
One of the nurses came out of the room and addressed her.

"You're new here, aren't you? Here! Make yourself useful. Bring this to the nurse station. We need to make a report of a gunshot victim," he said sharply, handing Tawnia a bag with Murdock's clothes and wallet.

When he saw Tawnia's puzzled expression, he sighed and added: "His ID is in there. And his clothes. The police will want it for evidence."

Before Tawnia could respond, or even ask how the patient was doing, the nurse had already hurried back inside.  
Glancing one more time at Murdock, the young reporter made a decision. With new determination, she turned on her heels and hurried back with the bag of evidence in her hands.  
But she wasn't going to the nurse station, and she wasn't planning to report a gunshot victim either.

* * *

Face was standing in front of the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup of the nasty black liquid they'd dared to call coffee.  
Nevertheless, it was his second cup. Face took a sip, winced, and added three extra cubes of sugar to the one he already added. It hardly improved the taste but it certainly was better than having nothing.  
The liquid contained caffeine, and after the long day they'd had, the tired lieutenant really could use a little boost to stay awake.  
While sipping the beverage, Face's eyes glided over the people in the waiting room.  
He had tried his best to fit in with them while waiting for an update from Tawnia. But it had cost him quite the effort not to start tapping his feet or jump his leg after some time. It was such an annoying nervous habit (something Murdock usually received a reprimand for).  
Of course, the people around him would probably think he was just worried, like most of them were. But he didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to himself if he could avoid it.  
When Face couldn't hold it any longer, he decided to walk to the coffee machine, just to have something on hands. Tawnia had gone after Murdock and he was still waiting for her to return.  
What took her so long?  
Gosh, he felt like a nervous wreck. Face couldn't help but think about the events of their day.  
It had been too dangerous, even for A-team standards. He didn't know how they did it, but somehow they'd managed to thread the needle multiple times that day. Face hoped in all honestly that 'Lady Luck' was still on their side. Or, as Murdock liked to phrase it; 'he'd liked to have Lady Luck as their co-pilot."

"Murdock... Please be fine, buddy," Face whispered in his cup of coffee.

He looked up and his heart leaped when he finally saw Tawnia entering the waiting room. She was searching for him and scanning the faces of the waiting people.

"Finally!" Face muttered. Tawnia spotted him and gave him a small nod.

The conman dropped his 'coffee' in the bin and walked casually into her direction. His exterior seemed calm, but Tawnia knew, that inside, the man had been waiting in tension.  
She gestured him to follow her.  
They walked down a corridor and slipped into a soon unlocked storage room.

"How's he doing?" Face asked the moment they closed the door and turned on the light.

"I .. I don't know Face.." Tawnia said with a soft voice while pushing the pair of glasses back up the bridge of her nose.

"They brought him to the resuscitation unit. They're working on him as we speak."

She didn't want to tell the conman how bad she thought that Murdock had looked. There was no point in worrying the man even more.

"They gave me his clothes and ID," she said, getting straight to the point and holding up the bag.

"And they want me to bring this to the head nurse so she can inform the police. I guess it's lucky I intercepted it. Now we don't have to give them his identification card. The less they know...right?"

She handed Face the bag, who opened it and grimaced seeing the bloodied clothes. Murdock's belongings were wrapped up in separate transparent zip-lock bags. Including Murdock's fake ID card, which Face had slipped into the pilot's wallet before the drop-off. The ID read 'Reed Richards', a name Murdock had insisted on using when Face was working on the document.  
It hadn't been the pilot's first choice, though. Originally, Murdock demanded to use the name 'Sue Cash', so he could start calling himself 'the boy named Sue'.  
Of course, the conman had declined this request immediately, since the ID wouldn't be very convincing (and because he wasn't looking forward to hear Murdock sing that particular song whole day long). So, after some bickering, he agreed to use 'Reed Richards' instead and wondered why Murdock had reacted so gleefully when he finally saw the finished document...

"Face?" Tawnia asked, nudging the conman out of his thoughts.

"Hm? Yes, sorry..," Face said absently, "Sorry.. I drifted off... please continue".

Tawnia nodded and gave him an understanding look.

"I was wondering..." She continued

"What if we keep Murdock's stuff to ourselves, and pretend I informed the head nurse. Then Hannibal won't have to risk coming to the hospital, and maybe we don't have to go through with the rest of his plan, and.."

"No!" Face interrupted her. He glanced at the pilot's sheepish grin on the ID card in his hands. "We follow through!"

Tawnia looked taken aback and Face instantly regretted his harsh tone.

"Just bring this to the head nurse and let her make the call," Face said with a more gentle voice now. "That way we won't raise any suspicions. You could get in trouble if they found out you didn't report Murdock, or that you aren't even a real nurse here. Remember, try not to get noticed. We stick to the colonel's plan like we all agreed."

Tawnia nodded mutely while biting her bottom lip.

"I promise you; all will be fine," Face added while giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

He returned the bag to Tawnia and looked at her with a serious expression on his face. He needed to believe it himself.

"Let them make the call. B.A will intercept it."

* * *

Hannibal had been driving around the area for a short while before returning to the hospital. He had to be sure that nobody was following him. The colonel parked the van in their previous hiding spot between the tall bushes and turned off the engine. With a deep sigh, he leaned back in the driver's seat and closed his eyes for a moment. The sudden quiet around him was unnerving, to say the least. Hannibal opened his eyes again and looked around. He was all alone now, and somehow it felt very uneasy and foreboding to the older man.  
He rubbed his eyes wearily. Man, he was tired! Though, he didn't want to give in to that feeling. There was still work to do.  
He told himself to hold on a bit longer to play out the plan. But not for the last time he wondered how much his plan was worth if Murdock wasn't going to make it?  
Did he really put his friend's life at risk like that?  
Hannibal sighed again. There was no way back now, so he shouldn't dwell on those thoughts. It was a waste of energy to live on 'what if's'.  
At least he could rest a little before part 2 of his plan would take off.  
The white-haired colonel reached out to the glove compartment of the van and rummaged through it. He chuckled in relief when he found what he was looking for; A cigar and a lighter.  
When he lit the cigar and inhaled deeply, Hannibal instantly started to feel better.  
It was like a dark cloud lifted and he could think more clearly now. It was going to be all right, he told himself.

* * *

B.A was still waiting in the telecommunication house. Waiting for that one call they were going to make.  
The man jumped when the phone suddenly gave a loud ring.  
Finally, his patience was rewarded. There was the outgoing call he'd been waiting for.  
The bulky mechanic had to force himself to let it ring one more time before picking up. He didn't want to sound too rushed.

"Hello?" he said with what he hoped sounded like a neutral voice.

"Hello, is this the Riverdale Police Department?" a female voice asked instantly.

"Yes, this is Officer Jones speaking. How can I help you?" B.A said, glad it was the right call. He carefully enunciated every word while reading from his cheat sheet.

"Man, this is hard!" B.A thought while clenching his fist around the receiver. He hated this sort of thing with a passion. That's why he'd usually had Face and the others do the talking.

The voice on the other side spoke again.

"This is nurse Bradley from the E.R from Riverdale Hospital. I'd like to report a shooting victim."

"Finally!" B.A thought.

B.A went through the standard procedures, asking for more details about the victim. He was glad that the fake ID had worked. Apparently, the head nurse hadn't given it a second glance.

"Thanks for notifying us, Nurse Bradley." B.A said.

"Reed Richards is a unique case, and we need absolute discretion from your part regarding his status. Don't share his information or whereabouts to anyone who asks. He is part of a law enforced undercover operation. That's all I can share over the phone right now.  
I'm sending over Sergeant Varjak. He will bring you up to speed. The sergeant will take the evidence and see the victim when he's available for questioning."

Do you understand?" B.A asked firmly while rounding up the conversation.

When the nurse (rather nervously) confirmed, he ended the call and hung up, sweat forming on his brow.  
Damn! How he hated this. But it was done. B.A hoped he'd been convincing enough. It was time to see the colonel.

The mechanic unplugged the receiver and wires and made sure to remove any traces of his break-in. Then he stood up, inhaled deeply, and made his way back to the van in the dark.  
He kept thinking about the fool and hated not knowing how his friend was doing. It had felt so wrong to lay him down on the asphalt in front of the E.R entrance.  
But it was the best solution to their problem. This way they could drop him off anonymously without having to explain things and risk getting caught. But it sure was a difficult thing to do on his part. It felt like abandoning the pilot and leaving him all alone out there in the hands of strangers.

B.A opened the sliding door of the van and stepped inside. Hannibal, who had changed into a police uniform, jumped up from his make-up kit but relaxed when he saw it was the mechanic entering.

"What do you think?" He asked, while holding a big white mustache in front of his face. "Too much?"

"Looks fine," B.A grunted, without as much as glancing at the colonel.

Hannibal eyed him carefully, knowing exactly what was playing in the sergeant's mind. He wished he knew the right words to take the worry away, but he couldn't.

"Report sergeant," the colonel asked instead.

"Got the call. Told 'm that you'll arrive soon." B.A answered ruefully.

"Good...great job, B.A," Hannibal said with a muffled voice.

He was now holding the mustache in place and waited for the face adhesive to dry.

"I'm glad we still had this police uniform with us," he added, hoping to lift the sergeant's spirits a bit.

"Yeah," B.A sighed.

He absently stared out of the front windows of the van and wondered how the fool was doing.


	10. Chapter 10 - No rest for the wicked

* * * NOTE * * *  
Ahhhh. I'm very very very (did I mention very?) late with this update. During my absence here, I wrote parts of new chapters for this story but just couldn't find enough time to finish and post them.  
Nevertheless, I'm grateful for the new followers, even though I've postponed a proper update for such a long time.  
I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter as I'm already working on the next one as well. Fingers crossed I'll be posting that one soon too.  
Please enjoy.  
Cheers!

* * *

Chapter 10 - No Rest for the Wicked

The evening had been steadily setting in when a burly white-haired police officer with a big white mustache entered the E.R. and instantly headed for the waiting area.

Face, still occupying one of the uncomfortable rickety chairs while pretending to be enthralled with another car magazine, looked up at the newcomer. He'd recognize his disguised commander anywhere and anytime. For a short few seconds, the two men made eye contact. Face nodded ever so slightly, knowing it was time for his next move. He wasn't thrilled about it and had been arguing about the matter with his commander when the latter lay out his plan. But despite all his reluctance to leave the hospital, and leaving Murdock, it simply had to be done. At least Tawnia had been able to give him an update on his friend right before Hannibal's arrival. She had been faithfully keeping an eye on the pilot whenever she could without causing any suspicions. Face sighed. Well... it was time to leave. But he would be back.

The conman lazily put down the magazine, stood up, stretched and headed perfectly aloof for the exit.

* * *

The police officer made a beeline for the nurse station.  
"Excuse me, I'm looking for nurse Bradley," he spoke with a stern and slightly scratchy voice. The head nurse, who'd just finished writing a note in a patient's file, looked up into the piercing blue eyes of the man at the counter. Her gaze was returned by a rather authoritarian stare.  
"Yes, that's me," Nurse Bradley confirmed, a little thrown off by the intimidating man.  
"And you are?" she asked, her eyes narrowing somewhat while glancing over the man's uniform and taking in his appearance.  
"Sergeant Varjak," Hannibal said, showing her his badge.  
Lowering his voice, he added: "I understand you've spoken to Officer Jones on the phone to report a shooting victim."  
"Oh yes. Yes, I did", Nurse Bradley stammered, quickly glancing down at her notes.  
"There was an...Ah here it is!" She said while screening her notepad. "They brought in a Mr. Reed Richards this evening. He was left on our doorsteps in a rather critical condition by unknown individuals."  
Hannibal nodded, still feeling a bit queasy about their action but keeping his face blank of any emotions. He fumbled through his inside pockets for a photo of Murdock.  
"Is this the man?" he asked, showing it to the head nurse.  
After studying it for a second, she nodded.  
"Yes, I believe that's him," she confirmed, feeling a little flustered.  
Then she bent forward over the counter and lowered her voice too.  
"Your officer asked me not to mention this patient to anyone else who asked for him, which is, if I may say so, a rather unusual request..." Nurse Bradley hesitated, before looking up at Hannibal with a nervous glance in her eyes.  
"And it raises quite some questions. I'll have to ask, for the safety of our patients and employees; Is he... ?" She trailed off, giving the man in front of her an expectant look. She wanted to say 'dangerous' but somehow felt hesitant to say the word out aloud.  
The sudden tension in the woman's body language didn't go unnoticed by the Colonel. The elderly woman was going to be an easy target. Hannibal made a point to look around the corridor and waiting area behind him before answering in a hushed voice.  
"I trust on your professionalism as I'm leaning heavily on the medical confidentiality of this hospital." Hannibal continued. "What I'm going to tell you is in complete confidence, Miss Bradley. Our man, Mr. Richards, is one of our top agents. He's part of a major undercover operation. Some big and important people are involved."  
Hannibal looked the woman meaningful in the eye without even doing so much as blink. If he kept the information vague enough, she would fill in the blanks herself. The head nurse's eyes widened and she inhaled sharply while taking in the information.  
Satisfied with her reaction, Hannibal continued.  
"I'm sure you'll understand that I can't reveal any more details. And I trust you won't reveal any details to anyone else, except me. If someone asks about Mr. Richards, you'll have to report to me, understood? Discretion is of the essence. People's lives are at risk here. It's crucial that I talk to the Doctor and get to see Mr. Richards' asap!"  
Nurse Bradley looked slightly slack-jawed at the police officer before picking up the phone with trembling hands and dialing a number.  
"Hello? Nurse Bradley here. There is someone who needs to speak to Doctor Blackwell immediately!"  
Nurse Bradley looked up nervously at Hannibal as she waited for a reply from the person on the other end of the line. Hannibal gave her an encouraging nod.  
Then she added: "Yes, tell her it's urgent!"

* * *

Face gently knocked on the van door in order not to startle B.A.  
Comprehending that his friend would be on edge; it would probably not be wise to barge in on him unannounced. He didn't really fancy another black eye...  
As Face opened the door, he climbed into the van and sank down into the passengers' seat with a heavy sigh. There was a moment of silence while Face fidgeted absentmindedly with his tie while staring out of the windshield. B.A shifted slightly in his chair before breaking the silence.  
"How's he doing?" He grunted with his deep voice.  
As if waking up from a trance, Face glanced up at the bulky sergeant.  
Despite his friend's burning and silently interrogating eyes, the man appeared to be calm to the surface.  
Maybe waiting in the van on his own had given him some time to relax and shake off some of the day's tension. Lucky for him...  
Face moved a hand through his hair in a frustrated movement as he answered.  
"All I know is that he was still in surgery some 15 minutes ago," He said.  
Dropping his hand onto his lap he continued: "At least, that was the latest info Tawnia could give me before Hannibal arrived."  
The conman sighed as he started fidgeting with his tie again.  
"I don't know, B.A... I, ...I wish..." But Face's voice trailed off without finishing the sentence as he averted his eyes.  
Another short silence fell over the van. Then B.A suddenly turned around to put a heavy bejeweled hand on the conman's shoulder. Face looked up in surprise.  
The bulky sergeant knew exactly what was going on in his friend's head. If he'd gotten the chance, Face would rather be with Murdock and watch over him like a hawk the moment the man got out of surgery.  
B.A had been listening to the argument that had sprung between the colonel and the lieutenant after Hannibal had laid out his plan. The mechanic understood the emotions that were bothering the conman. The feeling of abandoning a friend while having to take care of business... it was a feeling he'd felt all too familiar with after dropping off the fool, and leaving him crumpled and alone on the cold asphalt. But orders were orders and Face reluctantly complied knowing deep inside that Hannibal was right, and that they all had to play their part in this plan to make it work.

"He'll get through, Faceman." B.A grunted before removing his hand awkwardly and turning the key in the ignition. The mechanic didn't feel very comfortable in these kinds of situations. He wasn't usually the comforting type, but he knew his friend had needed it. Face nodded while silently appreciating the rare gesture of his friend.  
A comforting low rumbling sound emerged from the van's engine as it shockingly came to life.  
Skillfully maneuvering the black vehicle around the tall shrubs, B.A sped up and made way for the main road.  
"Don't forget he's not alone." B.A suddenly muttered after another moment of silence. "Hannibal and Tawnia are there. We'll be back in no time."  
"I guess," Face said grudgingly, rubbing the bridge of his nose while mentally preparing for their next meet-up. He felt exhausted. But... as always; There was no rest for the wicked.  
It was time to pick up the 'Vette and meeting up one last time with their clients to round up the job before returning to the hospital. Fortunately, they didn't have to travel too far away, and the conman hoped he could wrap it up quickly.  
They had to be able to make a swift exit out of the area. Decker would probably still be lurking around, and Hannibal just didn't want to leave loose ends untied...

* * *

Beep... ... ... ... ... Beep... ... ... ... ... Beep... ... ... ... ...

Murdock had been listening to the odd repetitive noise for a short while now, and it sort of boggled his clouded mind. It was a calm beeping sound, somewhat familiar, but he just couldn't put a finger on it. SO annoying.

Beep... ... ... ... ... Beep... ... ... ... ... Beep... ... ... ... ...

Murdock made an attempt to move, but his heavy eyes and limbs protested the action. Groggily, the lanky man made an attempt to count the beeps instead. Maybe it was Morse code, and someone wanted to send him a message? His features pinched a little at that thought..., because whatever he tried, it didn't seem to make sense. His mind was so agonizingly slow. He realized he was drifting in and out in waves. But this was important! He was sure of it.

Beep... ... ... ... ... Beep... ... ... ... ... Beep... ... ... ... ...

...What was it again?  
Five long beeps could mean a 'zero.' But he was positive he'd counted more than five already. And what would zero zero zero even mean? Was the Colonel sending him a message? Did the team need him? He had to wake up! His mind screamed for an answer, but he couldn't do a thing.  
Still vaguely wondering about The Meaning of the Beep the hurt pilot gradually sunk back into a void of darkness again, unable to ease his troubled mind...

* * *

Meanwhile, a nurse who was replacing one of the IV bags glanced down at the pale face of their newest patient. He'd just come out of surgery, and she expected him to wake up within the next 45 minutes. The surgery hadn't taken too long, as they found out that the bullet had already been removed. And even though it hadn't been done professionally, most of the infected tissue had been removed as well. They simply had to clean out the wound properly and stitch it up to prevent further infection.  
It had been a bit of a surprise. As for now, the man's background was a true mystery to them. Rumors were already spreading through the hospital wing as Doctor Blackwell had been urgently called away to meet with some police officer. A sergeant.

The lanky man's forehead was covered in a thin sheen of transpiration. The nurse looked down at her clipboard and nodded approvingly.  
The patient had been very dehydrated when they'd brought him in. So seeing him sweat again was a good sign.  
As the nurse watched his pinched features, she observed the slight flush on his cheeks. Checking his temperature, she noticed he was still running a slight fever. Though, fortunately, his temperature had dropped considerably. The antibiotics were finally kicking in.  
Satisfied that the new IV bag was dripping steadily, the nurse looked up at the new intern who'd just entered the recovery room with a bowl of water.  
"Good," the nurse said, making a final note on the clipboard and hanging it back on the patient's bed.  
"I will be back in a few minutes. I trust I can leave you alone with the patient for now?"  
The intern nodded timidly as she approached the bed and carefully placed the bowl onto the bedside table.

Murdock stirred slightly, and a small grimace appeared on his mouth as the intern mopped his forehead with a cool damp sponge.  
Reassuring herself that she was all alone with the patient, the young woman moved closer to the unconscious man.  
"It's okay, Murdock," Tawnia said quietly while wetting the sponge in the bowl again. "Hannibal is here, talking to the doctor who operated on you. He will be here real soon."  
Even though she wasn't sure if he could actually hear her, Tawnia felt relief when she noticed Murdock's features relax again.  
It was very confronting, seeing the man like this; connected to all these tubes and wires, and with an oxygen mask on his face. Suddenly the risks of their missions had become very real to her. Too real.  
Tawnia exhaled slowly as she continued mopping Murdock's forehead. She was happy to be able to keep an eye on the crazy man for the time being.  
He wasn't quite out of the woods yet, but at least his condition wasn't life-threatening anymore...

TBC


	11. Chapter 11 - The meaning of The Beep

* * * NOTE * * *

Wow, I managed to finish another chapter! And i'm glad I did.  
Be aware. It's a cliffhanger and quite a long read.  
Murdock's experience while waking up from the anesthesia was partly based on my own experience after undergoing surgery a couple of years ago. Waking up can be pretty confusing and it can also make you do weird things. But in his case it's also his PTSD playing a little role.

Ohh and by the way. Thanks again for the kind reviews on my story. They are as good as a chocolate candybar!  
My apologies if you stumble on some typos or some grammatic kinks in this chapter. I try to catch them, but sometimes I miss ;)

* * *

Chapter 11 - The meaning of the Beep.

B.A was peering out of the kitchen window of their client's farmhouse.  
Sipping from a glass of milk, he overlooked the vast property while keeping an eye on the main road.  
Behind him, the bulky mechanic half-listened to the quietly conversing voices of Face and their clients; A single father and his grown-up daughter who were running a cattle business together. They had called for the A-team's help after being terrorized by a big sleazeball named Clayton.  
The very same man who'd shot Murdock that morning.  
B.A's temper rose again at the thought of the criminal and his pack of daft henchmen. His unoccupied hand balled into a fist as he revisited the unfortunate events of the day for the umpteenth time.  
That morning they'd already put the man out of business, making sure that, at the end of the day, the thug didn't have a leg to stand on.  
But, as always, Hannibal (still high on the jazz) had insisted on confronting Clayton and his goons one more time to make the message stick.  
In retrospect, that last visit had been a miscalculation on their behalf. B.A winced as the memories of his wounded friend who had been barely holding on returned.  
But it was the jazz that got them into this situation, and all of them knew the jazz couldn't be stopped.  
Usually, it would guide them through the most precarious of situations with nothing more than a few bruises or a split lip to call for. But some days it made them overconfident and blind to the dangers that lay waiting for them. Today was one of those days that ended up being a very close call for one of them.  
With a deep scowl on his face, B.A tried to focus on the conversation again.  
As usual, he let the conman do the talking. B.A wasn't as good with words as Face was, and someone needed to keep an eye on the road in case the MP's should return.  
Fortunately, the clients were more than satisfied, and the team received proper payment for a change. That was at least something.

Face placed his empty coffee cup on the table and started to get up on his feet.

"Well, we're really sorry that we have to leave you in such a hurry, Tom. But I think you'll understand, seen the circumstances...,"

Scowl disappearing, B.A instantly turned away from the window to join the conman.  
He really had enough of all that talking. It was time to reunite with the team. They'd left the others alone long enough, and it started to gnaw on him. Who knew what Hannibal was up to next... You couldn't really leave that man alone for too long.

Face closed the top buttons of his blazer while turning to the client's rather attractive daughter who he'd been eyeballing for the last couple of days.  
He sighed as he observed her long blonde locks and her big doe eyes. She had nice teeth too. It was a pity there wasn't more time to ask her out for a nice candlelight dinner. But... there were more important things right now.

"Thanks so much for the coffee and those sweet rolls, Sybill," Face said, turning to the beaming lady and sending her a playful wink that made her blush.  
"They were simply delicious."

B.A rolled his eyes and grunted disapprovingly as the girl started to giggle.  
Leave it to the conman to squeeze in one last flirt before leaving.  
Ignoring B.A completely, Face addressed the father of the girl instead.

"Now, Tom, would you be so kind to tell me where you've parked my Vette? And may I add my gratitude for hiding it out of sight from the MP's? I understand they've been nosing around the area this afternoon. We're sorry for causing you any trouble."

Face looked concerned and B.A snarled at the mere thought of the MP's searching for them and intruding their client's privacy.

"Yeah," Tom said while stiffly getting up from his chair as well. "They've turned our house and property inside out to find you guys. Did you know they only left about an hour ago?"

Face's eyes widened at that piece of information. Was this another streak of good luck today?

"And they were very displeased that they couldn't find anything," Sybill chimed in pleasantly.

"We made sure of that. Especially that one guy..., Colonel Decker? He was quite pissed about something."

B.A and Face quickly exchanged glances, both knowing that this meant they still had to stay vigilant regarding Decker.

"Yeah, I fear we really tipped him over the edge this time," Face finally said, successfully keeping the worry from his voice.

Inside his head, he heard alarm bells going off, and by the frown on B.A's face, the sergeant was thinking the same thing.  
Regarding the Military Police, they weren't quite out of the woods yet.

"Anyway, let's not dwell on these things and let's pick up my car. Then we'll be out of your way," Face said slightly rushed now.

The conman didn't feel like wasting any more time than necessary.

"Just follow me," Tom said while opening the kitchen door and beckoning Face and B.A to follow him.

Face gave one last nod at Sybill before following his bulky friend and closing the door behind him.  
Stepping outside of the stuffy kitchen, the cool night air felt good on the tired faces of both A-team members. Tom lead them over a rough sand path that had tall trees growing on either side.

"We used our neighbor's barn to hide it," He said while turning on his flashlight. "But don't you worry none about causing us any trouble. It was well worth it, and we were happy to help. The good old Anderson's were quite keen on seeing Clayton go as well, so they aided us in hiding your ride. You guys saved our hides this week, and we're very grateful for what you've done for us. Please send Murdock our regards when you see him."

Face thanked the man, sending him an appreciative smile.  
It was always good to leave a happy client behind.  
But now it was about time to rejoin the others.

* * *

When Head Nurse Bradley had taken Hannibal to Doctor Blackwell's office, he immediately pushed his authority again and insisted on seeing Murdock first.  
But, to Hannibal's dismay, the good doctor would have none of it and didn't seem to be impressed.  
A minute later Hannibal found himself grudgingly sinking into a chair while the doc roughly pushed him a fresh cup of coffee in his hands.  
Doctor Elizabeth Blackwell sat down at her desk and poured herself a cup from the thermos as well. She really needed an energy boost before talking with this strange man who claimed to be a police officer. Of course, she'd seen his credentials, but those could've been faked.

Blackwell was a petite but feisty lady with hazel eyes and dark brown short hair. Her features were sharp and of a no-nonsense kind, but the few freckles that marked her nose softened her looks a little.  
Taking a sip from the steaming coffee, she settled herself on her chair and glanced suspiciously at Hannibal over the brim of her cup.  
Hannibal prepared himself for a fierce battle. This one clearly wasn't going to be as easy to persuade as the head nurse had been.  
It presented the colonel with a challenge. A confrontation Hannibal usually would've welcomed with open arms. But now...  
Right now, he just felt spent. Nevertheless, he just had to suck it up as he still had to play his part.

"So,..." Blackwell said briskly after a moment of silence. "Tell me... what's all this commotion about? And what the hell is so special about my patient that I had to be called away in such a hurry?"

Hannibal scrutinized the doctor for a few seconds. This was going to be a tough cookie.  
Wearily, but staying in right in character, he ran through his story once more.  
The doctor was a bit more skeptical than he'd anticipated, and in the end, she needed a whole lot more convincing before she actually started believing him.  
It was a good thing that Hannibal had come well prepared.  
After a long conversation and some great acting skills from the Colonel, Doctor Blackwell's mood finally turned around, and she even seemed intrigued.

"So you'll understand why I need to see him right away, doc," Hannibal said, leaning back in his chair. "He could still be in danger, and someone needs to be with him at all times."

Suddenly Hannibal felt bone tired and worried, and even though it was just for a mere second, his mask dropped while glancing at the photo of Murdock which he'd been using as a prop to show the doctor. The changes in his posture didn't go unnoticed.  
Hannibal looked up and stared into the Doctor's hazel eyes. Was that pity he was observing?

"It looks like you've had a very long day, Sergeant," She said, her voice actually sounding kinder this time.

"Yes, I guess," Hannibal responded, knowing he'd finally found an angle to work with. It was time to milk it for what it was worth.

Hannibal shifted in his seat and sighed. "I'm just worried about my man. He's been part of my team for more than ten years. We've been working closely together until he took this undercover job...and..." Hannibal swallowed. "And I owe him my life..,"

And it was true. He didn't even have to lie about it. The number one rule of deception: If you want to lie convincingly, it's best to stay close to the truth.

Blackwell observed the elderly man sitting in front of her. If her gut told her anything, these were genuine emotions, and she knew the man was speaking the truth. She'd made her decision and decided to believe the man.

"Okay, Mr Varjak," the little doctor said resolutely while standing up from her desk.  
"It's a crazy story, but I believe you. And I can see that you're worried about your man.  
Who knows what he's been through in the last 24 hours.  
I'm going to let you into the recovery room. But be aware. He's still in a bad state, though I'm cautiously optimistic about his recovery."

The doctor hesitated for a second before continuing.  
"Apparently he's had help from someone before they dropped him off. The bullet was already removed, and the wound had been cleaned out. It wasn't done badly, but apparently, they hadn't been able to clean it out thoroughly. It looked like the person didn't have the proper tools to use"

Hannibal raised his eyebrows slightly, acting as if this was news to him.

"So we're still fighting the infection with some heavy antibiotics and his fever already went down a bit.", Blackwell continued.

"Thankfully it was a short surgery, so we didn't need to use much anesthetics to keep him under. Depending on circumstances, I expect Mr. Reed to wake up soon. You can ask him yourself what happened."

Hannibal nodded in relief. It had been the right choice to bring Murdock to the hospital.  
As he stood up and shook the doctor's hand, Hannibal felt a weight fall from his shoulders.

"Thanks, Doc," he said looking down at the small lady with a grateful smile.

"No need to thank me," she answered before finally leading him to the recovery room.

* * *

Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...

 _"Sooooo, ..._  
 _We meet again Obeep-Wan, ..."_  
A slightly annoyed frown appeared on Murdock's brow as his muzzy brain picked up the sounds again.  
Gradually emerging from a deep slumber, Murdock put all his effort into staying at least semi-conscious this time. It was quite the assignment, but the beeping mystery 'had' to be solved or it would seriously drive him _nuts_!

Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...

"New theory! What if the Beep was someone's lazy alarm clock going off?"  
Murdock personally really agreed that it was time to get up.  
Desperately clinging to the sounds to stay in the here and now, the lanky man made another attempt to open his eyes, but it was to no avail.  
They were still as heavy as a portcullis...  
Murdock let out a small sigh of frustration.

Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...

Hmmm... this was getting old. Couldn't it play another tune? Something more upbeat maybe.  
Anything but the Lennon Sisters...  
Murdock tried his limbs again, but every inch of him felt weighted.  
Starting to feel slightly agitated with his situation, he tried to wish away the thick mist that was clouding his thoughts so much.  
Please, please, pretty please... with a paperclip on top? Or would they prefer a cherry..?  
He needed to get back to the guys.

Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...Beep... ... ... ...

Grrr... Come on!  
That Beep was SO gonna get it when he woke up!

With renewed efforts, Murdock decided to ignore the Beep and focus on other things instead. His body shuddered slightly with the effort.  
He was feeling unusually cold and stiff, and to top it off; he was quite thirsty too. Parched even.  
But at least the bleakness he'd experienced earlier was lifting a bit, and the searing pain from his chest and shoulder had pleasantly numbed down.  
Gosh, _that_ was a relief to say the least.  
While exploring his surroundings with his other senses, the lanky pilot started to realize that the rocky surface of the abandoned mine and the hard floor of the big guy's van had been replaced with something soft and comfy. His fingers gingerly touched something that felt like blankets. Was it a bed?  
Through his closed eyelids he observed some dim glow of light. Yup, definitely an improvement to the earlier darkness too. But where were the guys? And where was Billy?  
His trusty dog was the last thing he'd seen before the darkness overtook him.  
A sudden feeling of loneliness overwhelmed the lanky pilot.

"B.. Billy..," Murdock tried to speak, but all that came from his lips was a croaky sound that caught him by surprise.

And something else caught him by surprise too!  
 _There was something on his face!_  
It was _the Beep_ , he was sure of it!

In a moment of panic, Murdock's eyes finally flung open.  
The lanky pilot tightened his muscles in an attempt to move his arms. A little panicky, he managed to wiggle his uninjured arm from under a heavy blanket and tried to get hold of the thing that covered his nose and mouth. But whatever it was, it wouldn't budge.  
Fingers clawing, and breathing more heavily now; he struggled with all the energy he could muster while feeling confusion (and even anger) building up as his body went into battle mode. But it didn't last for long as his muscles quickly began to falter, and his eyelids started drooping again.  
To his dismay, the annoying beeping sound was steadily speeding up too. _Oh god! It was going to get him!_

Out of nowhere, gentle hands grabbed his arms and gingerly pushed them back on the bed while a soothing and calm voice spoke:  
"Sir... Sir! Please relax. It's okay. I'm taking off the oxygen mask now."  
Murdock's momentary panic slowly faded as he felt the constrictions on his face being removed. He heaved a low sigh of both relief and exhaustion while the beeping gradually subsided to a dull monotone rhythm again.  
With half-closed eyes, the lanky pilot finally started to get a notion of what was going on. The lady in white in front of him. The beeping sounds? The soft bed? An oxygen mask? He was in a hospital room with one of those damn heart rate monitors!

"Finally!" Murdock thought, feeling his eyelids close again. The meaning of the Beep had been resolved.

A heart rate monitor indeed... He was gonna have a word with it later on... when he wasn't so damn tired.

* * *

"...He's waking up, doctor."

"Yes, we noticed," a worried voice answered. "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know, Dr. Blackwell. He just suddenly started flailing. I think it was the mask that scared him or something," The nurse said, still looking a little shaken.

Hurried footsteps drew near as someone approached the bed.

"Mr. Richards? Reed Richards? Can you hear me, sir?" said a close-by, slightly raised woman's voice.

Murdock flinched at the sudden sound. His mind had been drifting off again, but the new voice pulled him out of the dark void.  
His eyes fluttered open as he tried to focus on the face hovering above him. Momentarily, he drew a blank on what the voice had said.  
Then he realized what name the lady had just been using.  
Did she say 'Richards'? _Reed Richards_? _Tee-hee!_  
The remainders of his previous panic attack suddenly washed away like snow before the sun, and a content smirk appeared on his lips.  
Nonetheless, Murdock couldn't prevent his eyes from drooping again.  
They were so, so heavy...

Doctor Blackwell's face puckered into a slight frown while observing the peculiar smile on her patient's face. Determining whether the man was actually conscious or not, she decided to give it one more try before leaving him be.

"Mr. Richards? You're in a hospital. Do you remember what happened?"

Murdock wrestled his eyelids open again. Bleary-eyed, he looked around the room and tried to focus on the woman's face once more. It was all a blur to him, and it started to make him feel rather giddy. He gave the doctor a short nod, still maintaining the faint smile on his lips but feeling too hazy to do much more.

"Good. How are you feeling?" The doctor said while taking in the flushed cheeks of her patient.

Murdock swallowed hard before changing his smile into a small lopsided grin.

"Like Mr. Fantastic", he whispered incoherently.

Not recognizing Murdock's inside joke, thinking he answered with 'Fantastic' only, the doctor merely shrugged while taking the man's temperature.  
From his peripheral vision, Murdock suddenly noticed the silhouette of another person standing next to the Doctor. Squinting his eyes, he tried to make out the shape. It seemed somewhat familiar.

Then a voice he'd recognize anywhere spoke: "How's he doing, Doc?"

Murdock's heart leaped as he leaned his head toward the sound of the voice.

"H..Han'bal..?" Murdock rasped, which immediately caused him to grimace.  
Ugh.. his throat sure felt like it had been thoroughly manhandled with some extra coarse sanding paper (probably the 800 grit type B.A loved to use on his projects).

Hannibal approached the bed with a small flicker of relief in his eyes. Murdock recognized him. That was at least a good sign.  
He didn't want to admit it, but the Captain had given him a fright when he'd suddenly woke up, flailing his arms in what seemed like pure panic.  
The colonel and the doctor had been standing at the door, waiting for the night nurse to finish her check-up on Murdock when it started. Fortunately, the nurse was a professional and managed to calm down the wounded man immediately. But it had alarmed Hannibal to see the captain like that. It was like the man had woken up in battle-mode, something he hadn't seen him do in a long time.

When Hannibal gently clutched Murdock's hand, he spoke very intently, hoping wholeheartedly that the disoriented pilot wouldn't blow their covers.

"Reed? It's Sergeant Varjak. Do you remember me?"

Murdock blinked at the bleary white-haired shape in front of him.  
Varjak? Surely this was Hannibal, wasn't it?  
Gradually, his eyes started to focus as he took in the appearance of the man at his bedside.  
Was that a mustache? Wow! Such a big one. (He wondered if he could give it a tug...)  
Murdock blinked hard again before coming to his senses.  
 _No... nope...nu-uh... Focus on the man, not the stache._  
Then, finally, it clicked.  
If he'd had enough energy to lift his arm, Murdock would've given himself a facepalm. Of course, Varjak was an alias! A disguise!  
Darn his muddled mind! Loving this new name, though... Why did it sound familiar? But never mind that, this was great. Hannibal was here!  
A weight lifted from his heart.  
Maybe it was the morphine playing tricks on him, but Murdock was starting to feel quite jaunty about the situation and started to giggle.  
With a boyish snigger, he gave the colonel a big fat all-knowing wink to let him know he understood.  
It must've looked a little ridiculous though, as he heard the Colonel chuckle lightly while squeezing his hand.

"It's the anesthesia," Doctor Blackwell explained with a matter-of-fact voice, and, to Hannibal's amusement (and relief), successfully misinterpreting her patient's actions.

"It can cause momentary confusion after the patient wakes up, which sometimes results in unexpected behavior."

"Sure does, Doc," Murdock thought silently, still with a grin on his face but feeling completely beat again. "Sure does..."

His eyes gradually closed as the pull of sleep took hold of him. But this time he felt a lot better, knowing that Hannibal was there, and his teammates would probably be close-by too. Things were going to be alright.  
Silver linings and clouds and all that jazz...  
The Beep was finally forgotten.

* * *

Nurse Bradley was yawning and rubbing her eyes gingerly as she was making preparations to leave.  
Her evening shift was almost over and she was longing to go home and have a glass of wine on the couch with her cat. Gosh, what a day!  
Stifling another yawn, she re-examined the file of their _very special_ new patient.  
It only needed a few more details from Sergeant Varjak before she could complete it and add it to their filing cabinet. But knowing that the man was busy and would probably not like to be interrupted while in a confidential meeting with Doctor Blackwell, she knew that she only had two choices.  
The elderly nurse reasoned that she could either wait for the Sergeant until he was available again. OR she could pay a quick phone call to the police station and ask if Officer Johnson was still around to provide her with the information she needed.  
After some contemplating, she chose the latter, picked up the phone and dialed the number of the police station.

* * *

To say that Colonel Roderick Decker was in a foul mood would be an understatement.  
Sitting at a random desk in the police station, he was filling some stupid forms while anger still coursed through his veins like a river gone wild.  
Grinding his teeth, he wrote down the 'finer' details of the day.  
Needless to say, the General hadn't been pleased with him at. all. Decker received a tirade over the phone and on top of that, the General demanded a full report on his desk by morning. Decker sighed as he struggled through the report. This was going to be an all-nighter for sure.  
Chewing on the end of his BIC pen, Decker stared blankly at the wall in front of him that was covered with posters from magazines. A barely dressed pin-up girl stared back at him with a naughty smile on her face.  
The deputy of the police station had taken pity on him and had generously offered him a desk to work on. Decker had sent Captain Crane to a motel to get some rest. The other soldiers had returned to the base. There was no use in keeping them stand-by.  
The escape of the A-team had gotten him in some serious trouble this time. Not only had he managed to return from his hot pursuit empty-handed; he'd also returned with three heavily damaged military state cars.  
He could add them to the ever-growing list of casualties.  
After his hike back to the Ranger's station, which had already cost him too much of his precious time, Decker immediately ordered a search through the property of the people that hired the A-team. He knew he was grasping at straws but he was beyond desperate to find something.  
At the same time, Decker had planned an ambush on the Riverside hospital. But the moment the General got wind of these new orders, the Colonel immediately found himself both rebuffed and grounded. The next coming weeks he would be working behind a desk, busying himself writing and filing reports. That was his punishment.  
Decker wasn't really surprised. His failure had cost the military too much money already.  
The fact that he'd recently destroyed the officer's headquarters (a guesthouse that was the proud and glory of the military base), wasn't really helping his case either.  
There even was a chance that he was going to get the sack.  
Oh, how he hated the A-team and that smug son of a bitch Smith!

The phone rang and one of the officers that just started his night-shift picked it up.  
Decker sighed one more time before returning to his papers.

"I'm sorry 'mam. I don't know of any officer Johnson. We don't have anybody with that name working here,"

Suddenly Decker pricked up his ears.

"No 'mam. We haven't received any report of a shooting victim either."

Decker literally jumped out of his chair and leaped at the startled officer while grabbing the phone right from his hands.

"Hello?" Decker said gruffly and slightly out of breath.

"This is Colonel Decker. Please tell me more about this shooting victim..."

TBC


	12. Chapter 12 - A phone call away

* * * NOTE * * *  
Hello again. Yay! Another chapter, and Yay! thanks for the reviews too. I had a great time catching up with them.  
I hope you'll enjoy this new chapter. I already planned the next one.  
Tawnia has a more prominent role in this Chapter. She wasn't really my favorite character during the series, though she did have some fun interaction with Murdock in 'Say it with Bullets'. So I wanted to give her a more important part in this story, and she came in mighty handy in this particular chapter.

Stay tuned

* * *

Chapter 12 - A phone call away

After she was sure that Hannibal was staying with Murdock, Tawnia quietly returned to the Nurse station to keep an eye on the place.  
Just as she entered the station, she heard a voice say:

"Yes, Colonel Decker... I - I understand sir."

Decker?!  
Tawnia immediately froze on the spot.  
With wild eyes, she scanned the corridors and waiting area for signs of the feared Colonel.  
But there was no trace of him, nor did she see any of his soldiers lurking about. When she didn't sense any suspicious behavior among the few people in the waiting room either, she relaxed a little.  
Then her eyes fell on the tense back of the elderly nurse, who sat quivering at her desk while speaking on the phone with a hushed voice.  
Tawnia's sighed in relief as she realized that Decker wasn't anywhere near the hospital yet.  
But the fact remained that Head Nurse Bradley was indeed talking to the A-team's biggest enemy!  
This was a problem.

By now, Decker must've confirmed that the team was hiding at the hospital. And there was NO question that he would turn up along with his back-up soon.  
Damn! What to do? Tawnia felt her heart pound against her chest as all kinds of horror scenarios ran through her mind.  
Decker was definitely coming, and she feared that Murdock was in no condition to be transported yet.  
And worse of all, Face and B.A weren't back yet!

As casually as she could, Tawnia picked up a clipboard from the counter and pretended to be occupied.  
What if they were finally getting caught this time? What would happen with the team? What would happen to Tawnia and her career? The young reporter shook her head. She didn't want to think of that yet. She needed to warn the guys. But first, she needed to hear more.

Fear was replaced with curiosity as the young reporter steadied herself and concentrated on the elderly woman.  
Gradually she moved closer toward the Head Nurse to listen in on the conversation. With ears pricked up, she stared at the clipboard while making fake notes.

"Yes, Colonel Decker," Head Nurse Bradley said again. "How long will it take you to get here?"

Tawnia held her breath.

"Very well. Then we'll see you in 30 minutes, Sir..." Nurse Bradley said with slight hesitation in her voice.

"Yes, I'll let Doctor Blackwell know..."

Crap! 30 minutes? What to do?  
Tawnia bit her lip. This wasn't really her cup of tea. She was the reporter, not the planner.  
Nurse Bradley was about to end the call and warn the doctor. And Tawnia had to come up with a way to delay the nurse.  
The palms of her hands felt sweaty. Was this what the team called the jazz? If it was, she wasn't really enjoying it.  
Tawnia wasn't even sure if she could ever feel the jazz like Amy had done during her adventures with the famous A-team.  
All of the sudden she had to anticipate Nurse Bradley's next move, and she didn't feel remotely jazzy about that.

While pushing her fake glasses back up her nose, Tawnia contemplated her options.  
She could run off now and warn Hannibal, but then she might miss out on some crucial information, and Bradley would be able to wander off to warn Doctor Blackwell. Tawnia wanted to prevent that from happening but realized in frustration that she couldn't possibly be in two places at the same time.  
Think!  
Her brow wrinkled as her mind frantically searched for a solution.  
What would the guys do?  
B.A often dealt with situations by using his muscles. And in other cases, he would build something clever to use as a weapon. But there was no time for any of that right now, and Tawnia immediately dismissed the use of muscles on the elderly lady.

What about Murdock? Hmm..  
The crazy man would probably leap in front of the nurse while bellowing: "SMILE, you're on Candid Murdock!".  
And if the elderly lady hadn't fainted from a heart attack, he would tell her in one of his rapid babbles that she'd been pranked, and was taking part in his famous non-existent tv-show.  
But nope, only Murdock could pull something like that off.

Next up was Face.  
Well, that one was easy in this case.  
The conman would probably work his magic and use all of his charms and charisma to get what he wanted.  
Tawnia pouted.  
That might work for the Faceman, but right now, Tawnia was pretty sure that her own charms weren't going do the trick with the Head Nurse.

Last but certainly not least, was Hannibal...  
Maybe the colonel, _the_ man with the plans, could give her some inspiration?  
Amy once told her the story of Hannibal locking his Doctor friend, Maggie Sullivan, in a closet before they became good friends...

Suddenly Tawnia's eyes brightened as an idea started to form.  
That's it! She would take a leaf out of the colonel's book.

"At least it's better than having no plan at all," Tawnia thought nervously while watching the nurse ending her call.

* * *

"Okay, thank you, Colonel Decker."

With shaking hands, Nurse Bradley hung up the phone.  
For a few seconds, she just stared at the papers in front of her.  
This was just NOT how she'd imagined spending her evening at all.  
Who was she going to believe now? This Colonel Decker? or Sergeant Varjak and his mysterious patient?  
Nurse Bradley rubbed her tired eyes and sighed.

"Are you alright Miss?"

The elderly lady almost jumped out of her chair when a gentle hand tapped her on the shoulder.  
The young girl who had been hovering around the station all evening was looking at her with eyes full of concern.

"Y-Yes, Miss...er.." Nurse Bradley checked the name tag on the girl's uniform "Miss Green".

The head nurse stood up, still feeling a bit shaken and confused. Drat. She was getting too old for this.

"You ... you are an intern here, right?" Bradley asked with a slight quiver in her voice.

The girl nodded.

"Miss Bradley, you look very pale. Let me take you to the common room and get you something to drink."

"I... I have to see Doctor Blackwell first...", Bradley said feebly.

"Not before I get you something to drink. Please 'mam, you look unwell. Let me help you. I can get Doctor Blackwell for you." The young intern said while resolutely putting an arm around Bradley's shoulder.

"And I don't want you to faint; you look dead on your feet. You know it will be on my name if something happens to you." the girl continued.

"Alright," Miss Bradley said, finally yielding.

Sitting down in a quiet room for a couple of minutes, wouldn't hurt, right? She needed a few minutes to think and make a decision on what to do.

Tawnia looked relieved when the nurse finally gave in and came along. Without wasting more time, the young reporter guided her to the deserted common room.  
The moment they entered the room, Tawnia had to suppress a sigh of relief.  
She hadn't exactly come up with a plan B in case the room had been occupied.  
The girl swiftly guided the elderly lady to the closet door.

"I just need to fetch my purse," she explained when the Head nurse gave her a puzzled look.

Opening the door, she added: "And I have something I want to show you."

Then, without warning, the young reporter pushed the elderly lady inside the small space. Nurse Bradley tumbled forward while knocking a couple of coats from their hangers.

"Hey, what the...!"

But before she could turn around, the door behind her closed and locked with a bang.

"I'm SO, SO sorry!" Tawnia said with a raised voice to overcome the loud banging and angry cries from the head nurse.

"I will make sure somebody will find you. But it's for your own good. You'll be in great danger if you interfere."

"Let me out!" Nurse Bradley cried again.

But it was no good. The young girl had already left the room, which she'd locked on her way out.  
There was no way the she would be rescued soon.  
As she sank down on the fallen coats, Nurse Bradley let slip out a few Anglo-Saxon four-letter words she'd normally never used.  
As she leaned with her back against the closet wall, she sighed wearily.

She should never have made that call...

* * *

Face drove his Corvette down the dark dirt road while brushing off a random straw and chicken feather from both his suit and dashboard.  
He didn't want to complain, but he couldn't help but feel a bit miffed about the state of his beloved car.  
Sure, it was thoughtful of the client to hide his car in a barn so the MP's wouldn't find and confiscate it.  
But the conman fiercely believed there should be a _law_ against parking an open convertible inside a stable that was inhabited by livestock.  
In this case: cows, chickens, and a rather neighborly farm cat.  
Cringing his nose, Face could still smell the faint musky scent of animals and hay spreading from his interior.

He sighed as he glanced in his rear-view mirror.  
Behind him, he could see the familiar silhouette of the black van following him closely.  
Reassured that B.A was still on track, Face let his eyes slide back to the dirt track again.  
He wasn't happy about the choice of roads either. His poor car sure got a beating today. But they had no choice. If Decker was still searching the area, they couldn't risk being caught.

So far things had gone smoothly, and they hadn't encountered anything unusual yet, except maybe for the road-crossing jack rabbit that Face only missed by inches.  
After taking a lot of side roads, they were finally getting closer to the main road that lead straight to the hospital.  
As Face approached the junction, he suddenly tensed.  
There was a familiar sound in the distance that sent him chills down his spine.  
Sirens!  
Slowing down his car, signaling at B.A to do the same, he picked up the phone and called the number of the van.

"What's up Faceman," B.A grunted.

"Trouble," Face said, while eyeing the interjunction in front of them.

"Turn off your headlights"

The sirens were getting louder by the second.

* * *

After leaving Nurse Bradley locked up in the closet, Tawnia rushed back to the Nurse station with a heavy heart.  
She felt bad about locking down the nurse hardhandedly, but she felt she really had no choice in the matter.  
Running into the cubicle, Tawnia had decided to warn Face and B.A first while nobody was watching the phone.  
She didn't want them to encounter Decker on their way back to the hospital.  
Locking the receiver between her chin and shoulder, Tawnia grasped the device and dialed the number of the van first.  
She bit her lip in frustration as she was greeted by a busy signal.  
Quickly pressing the plungers, she tried again with the number of the Corvette.  
Once more she received a busy signal. This couldn't be happening!  
With flushed cheeks and exasperation on her face, Tawnia jammed the receiver back on the phone and ran out of the Nurse station. Her actions caused her a few funny and curious looks from the orderlies and the people in the waiting area, but she couldn't care less.  
She was running out of time.

As quickly as she could, she made her way back to the recovery room to warn Hannibal.  
Tawnia was sure Decker could arrive any moment now.

"Please, have a plan, Hannibal", Tawnia pleaded silently as she opened the door to Murdock's room.


	13. Chapter 13 - Chasing Games

* * * NOTE * * *  
Yeah! another chapter, and man, I really want to write the next one. But it's going to be busy the following weeks, so I hope I will be able to squeeze it in.  
Again, I really enjoyed the feedback and comments I've received again. Thanks. I'm hoping you're still enjoying the story and like this new chapter.  
But Decker is getting close.

P.s: Oops, sorry. I had to post the chapter again. Too many small mistakes that I didn't see while posting it. I hope I found all of them now. (If not, lemme know).

* * *

Chapter 13 - Chasing Games

The moment Tawnia barged into the room, Hannibal immediately knew what was wrong.  
Decker!

"He's coming," The young reporter said breathlessly, looking at the colonel with fear in her eyes.

"How long do we have?" Hannibal snapped while rapidly scrambling to his feet.

He had been sitting in a deep chair next to Murdock's bed while keeping an eye on the sleeping pilot. Tawnia involuntarily took a step backward

"A-Any moment now. Maybe 10 minutes?" She answered with a slight quaver in her voice before realizing that doctor Blackwell was still in the room.

"Who's coming?"

Tawnia jumped as Blackwell turned around from her patient with raised eyebrows and a questioning expression on her face.  
The young reporter hesitated, but Hannibal resolutely placed a hand under her elbow and guided her toward the doctor.

"It's better that she knows," he spoke calmly to the girl who stared at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

"I guess it's time to introduce you to Angela Green, one of our youngest undercover field agents," Hannibal said while letting Tawnia and Doctor Blackwell awkwardly shake hands.

Tawnia quickly tried to compose herself as she looked into the scrutinizing eyes of the doctor with a look of (what she hoped looked like) determination.

"She's here to protect agent Reed and keep an eye on our situation in case something comes up," Hannibal said.

"And something _did_ come up..."

"What do you mean?" Blackwell asked, looking rather bewildered.

"It means we... and especially Mr. Reed, are in serious danger right now," Hannibal said with an urgent expression on his face while gently placing a hand on Blackwell's wrist and looking her in the eyes.

"Reed's cover is blown. We've been found out, and we need to move him out of the danger zone immediately. He is the key witness in a very complicated undercover operation. I can't share more at the risk of involving you and putting your life and that of the hospital staff in danger as well." Hannibal paused a few seconds to let the woman catch up with his words before he continued.

"Reed has knowledge of some very delicate information regarding our government and our president, and that's why he is a target. Do you understand?"

Blackwell tore her eyes away from Hannibal's piercing stare and glanced at the patient in the bed who's lanky frame and pale complexion made him look rather vulnerable. The man was still knocked out cold and would be a rather easy target to anyone who had bad intentions.

Blackwell nodded understandingly.

"But who is coming? What will happen?" she stammered, staring back at Hannibal who removed his hand.

"There isn't much time to explain," Hannibal said while turning his attention to Tawnia.

"Miss Green, I need you to go back to the nurse station immediately and try to contact our guys. If you get hold of them, tell them where to find us, and tell them to be prepared for a fast take off. I need the van ready at the ambulance parking lot. And tell them urgently that one of them needs to stay invisible. They'll know what I mean."

Tawnia gave a nervous nod and hurried out of the room. Hannibal turned around to face Blackwell again.

"Listen carefully. We don't have much time, but I owe you an explanation," he continued while talking fast.

"There is a rogue ex-colonel who's been discharged from the military for immoral behavior. His name is Colonel Decker. He's been after Reed for weeks now and he must've picked up on his trail again. Terrible things will happen if Reed's information will fall into the wrong hands."

Hannibal paused once more to let this information sink in while examining Blackwell's face. She looked rather affected with this new piece of information.

"So I need your help," Hannibal said calmly.

"I need an ambulance stretcher to transport my guy. Can you get one for me?"

Blackwell took a step backward.

"Sure, I could get you one." She said hesitantly.

"But your man is in no condition to be traveling so soon after surgery. He needs at least another unit of blood and anti-biotics and fluids. I cannot let you take him and risk..."

"We have no choice." Hannibal interrupted her briskly.

"We have the blood available and will make sure he gets what he needs. Just tell us what to do to make his transport as comfortable as possible."

There was a short moment of silence.

"Doctor Blackwell," Hannibal said with a heavy voice. "We... I... really need your help with this,"

Blackwell hesitated and then looked into the stale blue eyes of the white-haired man again. He looked tired and sincerely troubled.

She sighed.

"All right. I'll help you," she said reluctantly.

Hannibal nodded thankfully.

"Thanks, Doc," He said in all sincerity.

"We'll make sure to let the government know about your cooperation."

"Ah, never mind that," Blackwell said slightly annoyed.

She hurried to the door and vanished into the corridor to immediately return with a slightly surprised orderly.

"He'll help prepare the patient for transport," Blackwell said sharply. "I'll be back soon with a stretcher."

The orderly immediately started to turn off the vital signs monitor and disconnected Murdock from the device. He then quickly arranged the IV bags before wheeling the monitor out of the room with a nod at Hannibal.

Hannibal turned around to look at the unconscious pilot.

He felt both relieved and conflicted... And tired, oh so tired.  
He was tired of lying to the good doctor who saved his man's life, and tired of having to run again while the pilot was fresh out of surgery.  
Hannibal couldn't help but wonder ...  
It had been a long day. Was he still making the right decisions?

* * *

"This must be one of the most ridiculous things I've ever done," Face muttered as he chased after the police cars with just enough distance not to be seen...nor recognized... (He hoped).

B.A was right behind him in the van. Both vehicles drove fast with dimmed head lights. The buildings and street lights giving them just enough light to see where they were going.  
When the police cars sped over the intersection with screaming sirens, Face had made a quick decision and decided to follow them. He quickly told B.A over the phone to do the same and thus their hot pursuit began. The conman had a hunch that the police unit was heading for the hospital, and if that indeed was the case, Hannibal needed to be warned.  
Face realized he was taking a risk with the law enforcers.  
What if they noticed that _they_ were being tailed? What if they turned around? But it was a risk Face was willing to take.  
After all, who would _ever_ expect the A-team to chase the police for a change?  
Face couldn't help but smile at the thought of telling Hannibal. It was the world turned upside down tonight.

Suddenly the car phone rang and Face hastily picked up.

"Face? It's Tawnia. Decker is coming!" the nervous voice of the reporter sounded through the receiver.

"I know..," Face said with a calming voice. "We're chasing him right now."

"You _what_?!" Tawnia sounded astounded.

* * *

As Tawnia hang up she looked a bit flustered. She wasn't sure if she wanted to laugh or cry right now. But she'd given Face Hannibal's instructions, and that was all that she could do for the moment.

Quickly she collected Murdock's patient files that head nurse Bradley had left on her desk and put them in a folder together with the pilots' fake ID. Then she collected the paper bag with Murdock's other belongings. She had to remove the evidence while she still had access to the nurse station. Bradley's replacement at the end of her shift still hadn't arrived. And the few nurses and orderlies running around were too busy with their own patients, so nobody was taking charge over the station.

Just as Tawnia wanted to return to Hannibal, Decker barged into the E.R, followed closely by Captain Crane and four police officers.  
Tawnia froze as the colonel immediately headed into her direction. The young reporter quickly turned her back to him and was about to leave when the man intercepted her and grabbed her by her arm.  
Tawnia gasped as she turned around, trying to hide her face behind her hand.

"I'm looking for Nurse Bradley," the colonel barked while eyeing the young woman with a stern look on his face.  
His rude behavior betrayed that he was on a very short fuse. He had no time for nonsense.  
Tawnia shuddered under the scrutinizing stare of the man. What if he recognized her? But apparently he didn't, as his eyes strayed toward the people in the waiting area.

'She - She went home," Tawnia said while briskly removing her arm from Decker's grip and turning away from him. "She didn't feel well."

She wanted to walk away, but once more, Decker pulled her back. Tawnia almost dropped the folder and bag from her hands and stared at the man disbelievingly. What if the folder had dropped to the floor and spilled its contents? Decker ignored the tense stare of the young woman in front of him.

"There was a shooting victim tonight. Bring me to his room!"

"But, I'm only an intern!" Tawnia protested, trying to change her voice slightly as she spoke. She really hoped that Decker wouldn't see through her disguise.

"Just take us to his room. You must know where it is." The colonel snarled, clearly running out of patience.

Tawnia nodded timidly. "Yes, sir..."

"You!" Decker pointed at one of the police officers who jumped unintentionally. "You stay here and guard the entrance here. The rest of you, follow me!" Decker barked.

The police officers mumbled something incoherently but after a piercing stare from the colonel decided to follow orders.

"Show us the way," Decker said sharply while turning back to Tawnia again.

Tawnia did as ordered and started walking.  
She was going to buy the guys some more time and quickly headed for the stairs, knowing that Murdock's recovery room was on the ground floor.  
But Decker didn't know that...

* * *

"One of them has to stay invisible"... Those were Hannibal's instructions.

Face knew exactly what the colonel meant. _'He'_ had to be the invisible one, since Decker hopefully still assumed it was _him_ who'd been shot.

After hiding his Vette some blocks away from the hospital, he'd jumped into the van to accompany B.A.  
While the bulky sergeant drove them to the back side of the hospital, Face had quickly changed his appearance again.  
He hoped that Decker wouldn't recognize him in this disguise.  
After sneaking inside they were silently waiting for the police officer (who was standing guard) to look the other way.

"Now!" B.A whispered.

Stealthily, the muscular sergeant and the conman both entered the E.R while quietly slipping into a small space with wheelchairs and gurneys. Sitting on their haunches, hiding behind a particular big wheelchair, they eyed the police officer cautiously. With relief they observed that the man hadn't noticed a thing.

Then Face nodded at B.A and made his move. He got up and casually walked toward the drinking fountain that was situated close to the young officer who was now yawning.

"Looks like a rookie," Face thought silently. "Only the better for me..."

Pretending to be drinking, the conman carefully produced a syringe from his sleeve and readied himself. Just when the policeman stepped closer, Face turned around and skillfully injected the man's neck with the liquid. It was a good thing he'd had so much practice with B.A in the past.

"Wha...!",

The police officer turned around with wild eyes while grabbing for his gun. But almost immediately his eyelids started drooping and with a distant , aze he fell to the floor.

"Man Down!" Face yelled to an orderly while stepping away from the unconscious man.

"Oh my god! I don't know what happened, he just collapsed!"

"Please step away sir. Give the man some space, we got him." And orderly said, quickly kneeling down next to the officer and taking his pulse.

They didn't have to tell him twice. Face started walking. Tawnia told him where to go.  
B.A emerged from his hiding place and quickly followed the conman as casually as he could while everybody's attention was drawn to the fainted police officer.

As they passed the treating area with hospital beds, a rather familiar man looked up and nudged his friend.

"H-Hey Artie, isn't that Bear Claw Jones?" The man stuttered with surprise in his voice. "What's _he_ doing here?"

"Ouch! Who...argh... cares, man...ow ow ow!" Ritchie whimpered with a gaunt face, clearly not interested to know.

"Please sit still, sir," a nurse said while carefully stitching the man's hand.

"I told you that hunting knife of yours didn't need any more sharpening," Ritchie said, moving his attention back to his friend and trying to contain his laughter.

"Hmpff!" was all he got for an answer.

* * *

Doctor Blackwell kept her word and had returned with a special ambulance gurney.  
Hannibal helped her wheel it into the room and park it next to the hospital bed.  
Carefully he lifted the still unconscious Murdock onto the stretcher while the Doctor transferred the IV and blood bags to the pole with the IV hook.  
As Hannibal put a blanket over the lanky man, the Doctor quickly put a hand on the pilot's forehead. Murdock made a sound and stirred slightly at her touch but didn't open his eyes.

"He's still feeling a bit hot. I'm really not happy to let him go already..." Blackwell said with clear annoyance in her voice.

"We don't have a choice," Hannibal said impatiently while packing the extra IV bags with anti-biotics and fluids that the Doc had brought along.  
Where were the guys? Time was pressing on them.

"And I really need you to go back to your office now," Hannibal commanded. "You're in danger if you're found here with us.  
My men will arrive any moment and we'll be gone before you know it."

"But..." Blackwell protested.

"Reed will be fine. We're going to see a doctor who will be able to help him. Don't you worry. We really can't risk you and your personnel to get into a dangerous situation like this. Think of the hospital, and think of your patients," Hannibal said while guiding the doctor to the door.

"And... I want you to know I'm very grateful," he added more gently.

Doctor Blackwell turned around and looked at him with mixed emotions.

"Fine," she said after a long pause. "Just make sure he gets that unit of blood and anti-biotics. And he needs to drink when he wakes... but start with small amounts"

Then she turned around on her heels and grudgingly made her way back to her office.

Hannibal let out long a low sigh.  
Convincing the Doc had cost him more energy than he'd expected. Where were his men? Did Decker get to them first? Man, he _really_ needed a cigar to clear his mind.

Just as Hannibal started to ponder about a plan B, the door of the room opened and B.A walked in. The gold clad man quickly scanned the room, nodded at the beaming colonel, and turned around.

"Coast is clear, Faceman," He said.

Face immediately leaped into the room and closed the door behind him. Hannibal chuckled, seeing the conman in his earlier disguise with eyepatch and all. He felt utterly relieved to see his men. For a moment, the team was complete again.

B.A approached the gurney while eying the still pilot with a look of concern on his face. Then he turned to his commander. His concern quickly replaced with his usual scowl.

"What's the plan, Hannibal," he grunted.

"Oh it's fairly simple," Hannibal said matter of factly with a new hint of the jazz on his face. "We're getting out of here!"

* * *

Decker was getting more agitated with the minute.  
Following the young nurse, he had the feeling they were running in circles.  
He eyed Captain Crane, who, like him, started to look annoyed.  
They were guided into corridor after corridor, and still they hadn't reached the room of that shooting victim. He was sure it was one of the A-team members. His gut told him as much.

It didn't help that he only had a few rookies from the police station to assist him. There weren't any other volunteers, and he couldn't have the general let in on his plan.  
The rogue colonel was pretty sure he would be denied all help and would be ordered to stay away from the hospital.  
Like hell that was gonna happen!

"Hurry up and find that room!" He barked at the nurse who jumped at the sound of his voice. "Where is it!"

"It's, It's right here, sir. Room 148B," Tawnia said while guiding them nervously to the room with the number she'd just read from the sign post.

"Good..."

Colonel Decker readied his gun and gestured his men to do the same. Preparing to barge into the room he motioned Tawnia to leave. With relief on her face, Tawnia scurried away and disappeared out of sight.

"At my mark..." Colonel Decker growled, feeling adrenaline building up.

At his command, the colonel and his men barged into the room with their guns raised.

"FREEZE," Decker yelled.

His eyes widened as he looked right into a scene of an astonished doctor who was just performing an endoscopy on a patient.  
Lowering his gun the colonel started fuming.  
This was _not_ the room he was looking for...

TBC


	14. Chapter 14 - Are we there yet?

* * * NOTE * * *  
Haha, I managed to squeeze in one more chapter before the week starts. And... it's a cliffhanger again. Sorry about that (Hmm...Nahhh, not really). ^_~

Finally some real action!

* * *

Chapter 14 - Are we there yet?

"So, that's the plan guys," Hannibal said while looking from B.A to Face for approval.

"Crazy as always..," B.A grumbled.

"As long as it's the last plan for today," Face sighed while taking off his eyepatch and deerstalker hat. "We're working overtime here."

Just as Hannibal wanted to come back with a witty reply, Tawnia barged into the recovery room, totally out of breath. It seemed to have become a new habit of hers.

"Decker is upstairs," She panted while trying to catch her breath.

"I distracted him, but he'll be here within minutes if he figures out where you are," she continued while handing Face the documents and the paper bag with Murdock's stuff.

"Okay. Let's get to business then," Hannibal said, instantly coming into action. "You guys know what to do!"

B.A grunted as in confirmation and started searching for a wire or string. Face hid the documents under Murdock's blanket and swiftly released the handbrakes of the stretcher. The lanky pilot stirred slightly at the sudden movement.

"What about me?" Tawnia asked.

"I need you to leave on your own, kid" Hannibal replied while moving a bedside table towards the wall to make room.

"Take the Vette and get out of here. Go to Maggie's. You know her address? Let her know we're coming."

Tawnia nodded while eyeing Face apprehensively, knowing the conman's opinion about other people driving his precious car.  
Indeed, Face looked like he wanted to complain but after a stern gaze from Hannibal, he thought the better of it and reluctantly handed the reporter his keys with some quick instructions to the car's location. Tawnia thanked him and quickly left the room.  
In the distance a loud shouting could be heard.

"Face, you really need to get going!" Hannibal said urgently. " I bet my last cigar that's Decker. He mustn't see you, nor Murdock,"

"Eyyy, Don'tcha worry col'nel," a croaky voice suddenly came from the stretcher.

The three men turned around in surprise as they saw Murdock awake and beaming at them with flushed cheeks and a lopsided grin.  
With slightly feverish eyes, he waggishly waved his wiggling fingers at them.

"I'vegotta plan... I'll... I'll stretch... and..jus' squeeeeeze through the cracks... They'll never find me," Murdock smiled proudly while slightly slurring his words.

As to prove his statement, the pilot lifted a heavy arm and watched it stretch out slowly while his fingers grew longer, and longer...and longer... and ...

"Cool!" he whispered as only his eyes could see his elastic fingertips brushing the panels of the ceiling.

"Fool," B.A muttered, noticing the vacant look in his friend's eyes who kept staring from his hand to the ceiling and back again.

He clearly wasn't quite lucid yet... Well, lucid for Murdock's standards anyway. But the big guy couldn't help but feel relieved seeing the crazy man talk again. The mechanic didn't really want to admit it, but he'd almost missed the jibber jabber... Almost. He smiled inwardly.  
Hannibal chuckled.

"Right," Face said, masquerading a smile of his own.

"Maybe another time buddy. You're coming with me."

"Are we there yet?" Murdock giggled. His arm dropped heavily back on the blankets again.

Another muffled shout and the banging of doors could be heard. Much closer this time.  
Face ignored his loopy friend and hastily pushed the stretcher with the pilot on it through the doorway. He swiftly slid through the hallway while dodging the sleepy and curious people who were stepping out of their rooms to see what the commotion was all about. The two men were only just out of sight as Face heard a hallway door slam open behind them and an angry voice shouting: "SMITH! WHERE ARE YOU!"

Face started running.

* * *

Tawnia settled herself in Face's Corvette.  
With trembling hands, she closed the door and put the keys in the ignition. But instead of starting the engine, she leaned back into the driver's seat and took a long shuddering breath.  
Before she'd left the hospital, she'd changed back into her own clothes and left the 'borrowed' uniform and clogs on a neat pile in the locker room. Then she told an orderly that she thought she'd heard someone scream in the common room and left before she had to answer all kinds of awkward questions. Hopefully, nurse Bradley wouldn't be too shaken about being locked up for so long. Tawnia couldn't help but feel guilty about it. Working with the A-team had proved to be... challenging.

For a moment the young reporter savored the silence that surrounded her, and while her thoughts drifted away she noticed to her own surprise that tears started to roll down her cheeks. The tension of the day was finally leaving her as she opened the floodgates and let it all out.  
Finally, after what seemed like minutes of sobbing, she grabbed a paper handkerchief from her purse and blew her nose.  
The crying had actually done her good and she felt relief washing over her like a warm blanket.

"Okay, girl..," Tawnia said while composing herself again.

"You've got one more thing to do... So Bad Rock it is."

With renewed determination, Tawnia started the engine.  
However, as she pulled out of the alley, she'd made a decision.  
This would be one of her last adventures with the A-team.  
It had been too much of a close call and she'd even almost see a man die.  
She realized that she'd never really felt it. Not even today.

The sensation of the jazz...

* * *

"SMITH! WHERE ARE YOU!".

Decker's voice boomed through the hallway as he and his team checked every room and closet-door on their crusade.  
Screams and outraged insults came from every occupied room they'd forced themselves into. Doctor Blackwell screamed after Decker to leave the patients alone and to respect the peace and quiet of the hospital.  
But Decker couldn't care less. He was livid. He had to find them, or it would drive him insane. Literally!  
The colonel waved his gun like a madman as the rookie police officers hesitantly followed him. They didn't seem to be sure about the mental state of their man in charge either.

"Hey Dirtball, Looking for me?" a taunting voice came from the end of the hallway.

Decker jerked his head and immediately spotted the white-haired colonel who was casually leaning against the doorway of one of the recovery rooms with folded arms. The smug grin plastered on the man's face was infuriating.

"SMITH!" Decker barked. "I'll get you this time!"

"Then come and get me, Roderick. Or do I have to call your mommy and tell her what a slob her son really is?"

"That's it!" Decker yelled.

With bulging eyes that showed deep hatred, he charged and ran toward the other colonel with Crane and the rookies on his heels.  
With a chuckle, Hannibal quickly slipped inside the room and disappeared out of sight.

"I'm here if you need me!"

Totally enraged, Colonel Decker didn't even realize he'd lost control. Against better judgment, he ran straight toward the doorway and barged into the room.

"NOW B.A!"

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, Decker fell face-forward to the ground. His gun scattering over the floor and out of sight.  
There wasn't even time to get up as he was instantly floored by Crane and the young policemen who tumbled right on top of him.  
A trip wire! Decker realized while grinding his teeth. A simple tripwire! And he'd fell for it.  
Decker tried to squirm his way out from under his dazed Captain and then noticed Hannibal who was about to leap over the pile of men.

"Not today Smith!" Decker snarled while grabbing the other man by his ankle and tackling him down.

While both colonels scrambled to their feet, Decker uttered a snarl of pure hatred.

"What's the matter, Roderick?" Hannibal panted. "Is your acid reflux playing up again?"

Decker wailed as he pounded on Smith and hooked him with a well-aimed fist. The blow was so hard that Hannibal lost his fake mustache.

"Damn! That was my favorite stache!" Hannibal heaved, looking slightly out of breath.

There was no time for joking as Decker immediately charged again. But this time Hannibal was prepared, and he avoided the punch with well-practiced ease.

In the mean time, B.A was spending some much-needed quality time with Crane and the rookies.  
He had been building up his rage all day long, and finally, he could let it all out and blow off steam.  
The moment his opponents scrambled back to their feet, he'd jumped on them and knocked them straight to the ground again. Then Crane managed to get up and tried to aim his gun at the sergeant who quickly picked up the mattress from the hospital bed and forcefully threw it at the Captain. With the weight of the mattress on top of him, Crane lost balance and landed flat on the floor while losing his weapon during the process.  
The rookies slowly got back to their feet again, and the bravest of the lot managed to hit B.A hard on the back.  
The bulky sergeant momentarily closed his eyes in annoyance, took a steadying breath, turned around, and quite effortlessly lifted the reckless young man up from the ground by his collar.

"That was a real' foolish thin' to do!" he growled menacingly, with his face very close to his victim who started to turn rather blue.

Just as the other two rather unwise officers tried to charge again, the bejeweled giant tossed the choking man in their general direction. All three of them landed spread-eagled on the hospital bed.  
Next moment, B.A pulled Crane from the ground and threw him on the pile of squirming officers.  
As a finishing touch, he then sandwiched the dazed men with the mattress for good measure and sat on top of them.

Hannibal was still fighting fist to fist with Decker.  
It had become an extremely personal fight as both men let out all their anger and frustration at each other without holding back.  
B.A looked up as he heard them snarling, throwing punch after punch.  
Then out of nothing, Decker floored Hannibal and jumped on top of him. He pinned his arms to the ground with both knees while bending his fingers around Hannibal's neck and pressing hard into the man's windpipe. Hannibal gasped for air as he struggled to get out of this chokehold. But Decker's grip was strong and Hannibal wheezed as black dots started to cloud his vision.

"I got you now, Smith!" Decker hissed triumphantly in Hannibal's ear with an expression on his face that was beyond mental.

Hannibal squinted his eyes while mustering every bit of energy he could manage. With one last effort, he wiggled one arm free from under Decker's knee and balled his fist.  
The punch he'd threw at Decker was surprisingly powerful and hit the man's temple with full force.  
The rogue colonel toppled over and Hannibal crawled away on his knees, wheezing hard and feeling quite light headed.

"'S that all...ya got!" Hannibal rasped while staggering to his feet.

Decker rolled on his side and looked at Hannibal with a poisonous glare. Then, all of the sudden, he spotted Crane's gun. It was lying right within his reach.  
Hannibal followed Decker's stare and acted on impulse the moment Decker turned on his belly to make a grab for it. Both men rolled over the floor while trying to overpower one another. Hannibal tried forcing the gun from Decker's hand while squeezing his fingers around the weapon. B.A was about to step in and end the fight, but before he had time Decker snarled.

"Good bye, Smith!"

"HANNIBAL!" B.A cried.

BAM!

The gun shot echoed through the hallway and an ear piercing silence fell over the room...

TBC


	15. Chapter 15 - Dream(e)scapes

Chapter 15 - Dream(e)scapes

"Hannibal!" B.A yelled desperately.

Hannibal and Decker lay spread-eagled on the floor, both blinking hard and feeling completely dazed by the soundwave of the gunshot.  
However, Hannibal was the quickest to recover, and before Decker even had time to react, he was knocked into oblivion with one last blow to the head.  
Exhausted, the colonel rolled on his back again, squinting his eyes and panting hard while throwing the gun away from him.  
He really needed a moment to compose himself. But there simply wasn't time for that.

Grunting loudly, he scrambled to his feet, dusted off his trembling knees with an air of "Told you it was a piece of cake', straightened up and beamed at B.A with a rather glassy look in his eyes.

"Don't ya love it when a plan comes together?" Hannibal slurred while visibly swaying on his legs.

Since Face wasn't there to do it for him, B.A rolled his eyes before leaping forward and catching the colonel right before his legs gave way.  
B.A sighed. Decker sure had done a number on the man.  
Hannibal couldn't help but chuckle while leaning heavily on the mechanics' shoulder.

"Ain't funny, man" B.A snarled angrily.

"Kinda is," Hannibal replied dryly, glancing at his unconscious nemesis on the floor and the pile of sandwiched officers on the bed.

Then his grin disappeared, and the colonel was back to business.

"Let's go Sergeant,"

B.A nodded. Probably the best plan the man ever had.  
He had become uncomfortably aware of the growing amount of screams and commotion in the corridor.  
The sergeant threw one last poisonous glare at the pile of unconscious men before heading for the door.

"You're even a bigga fool than Murdock sometimes," B.A grumped while supporting his commander out of the room in a hurry.

"Yeah," Hannibal beamed hazily, looking rather proud.

Hurrying down the corridor, they were dodging an uproar of screaming and confused people.  
Doctors, nurses, and orderlies ran up and down to calm their patients and guide them back to their rooms for safety.  
Thankfully making use of the distraction, B.A and Hannibal rushed to the Ambulance parking lot as fast as they could.

As they leaped around another corner, B.A quickly glanced back at the crowd of people. Suddenly he stopped in track as he spotted a small blood trail that was following them.  
His eyes widened and he looked at Hannibal, observing the blood that was steadily dripping from his commander's fingertips.

"Hannibal, you're bleeding!"

* * *

Face sat waiting in the van while occasionally peeking through the rear windows of the backside doors. He threw another glance at his watch and heaved a sigh.  
They were late.

"But," He thought while scolding himself, "That doesn't have to mean anything..."

The guys were probably doing fine. They were only taking a little bit longer than expected... Like often happened with Hannibal's plans.  
After all, waiting had never been one of his best qualities.

Face glanced down at Murdock who lay low on the now folded-up ambulance stretcher that Face had clumsily managed to wheel into the van.  
The conman fiercely hoped that B.A wouldn't notice the shiny new dents he'd caused during the process.  
Murdock mumbled something and moved his head restlessly as he managed to wriggle an arm from under the blanket that slowly slid from his chest.  
The conman quickly got up to tuck his friend in again, raising the blanket up to his chin to keep him warm.  
A shudder ran through the pilot's body and a soft whimper escaped his lips.

"It's okay buddy," Face said softly.

He didn't like that they were leaving the hospital so soon. Even though he was out of immediate danger, it was clear that Murdock still wasn't doing well.  
He kept drifting in and out of consciousness, and whenever he was awake he seemed to be hallucinating and talk gibberish... - Something about being able to stretch out his limbs?  
Face shrugged and stifled a yawn.  
He felt tired to the bone but needed to stay alert.  
They still had one more trip to make. The plan was to drive over to Maggie (Hannibals doctor-lady-friend) who lived in Bad Rock.  
It would at least take them another 3 or 4 hours to get there. But hopefully, there wouldn't be any more wild MP chases this time.  
Face figured they'd had more than enough practice for the rest of the year!  
Peeping through the rear windows again and seeing nothing out of the ordinary, he decided to shred off the hunter outfit and quickly change back into his regular suit.  
That would certainly make him feel a bit better.

While buttoning his shirt, and keeping an eye on the outside world, Murdock started stirring again.  
Face was just about to put on his suit jacket as a yelp from his friend made him jump

"DECKER! He's coming!"

Murdock's bright eyes were wide open and looking around in bewilderment as he struggled to get up from the stretcher.

Face turned around and quickly sat on his haunches while putting his hands on Murdock's arms.

"It's fine Murdock. Hannibal and B.A are dealing with Decker. They will be here in no time" Face tried to shush the feverish man while trying to push him back on the stretcher.

But the lanky pilot didn't seem to hear Face's words and weakly tried to struggle his way out from under his grip.

"Let go off me... " Murdock said while slowly losing the battle from Face's persistent hands.

"I-I have to t-tell the guys. The H-Huey isn't ready yet... Can't fly yet..."

Eyelids drooping, Murdock mumbled the last words before giving in and drifting off again.

"Huey?"

Face realized as he tucked his friend in for a second time, that the pilot had been dreaming. Though this time he seemed to mix up some of his older memories with the fresh ones. That couldn't be good.

Just as Face stood up, the side doors of the van slid open and Hannibal stumbled inside.  
B.A helped the colonel into a seat, then quickly jogged around the van to climb behind the wheel.

"Let's get out of here, B.A!" Hannibal said out of breath.

The big guy growled in confirmation as he hit the gas pedal. With the usually shrieking wheels, the van left the parking lot and hit the main road.  
Face's eyes widened at the sight of the disheveled colonel who let out a low grunt and sank down deeper into his seat.

"Hannibal..?" he started hesitantly.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant," Hannibal said, quickly plastering an overconfident grin on his face.

"Just a little roughed up, that's all," he added, with an unfocused glaze in his eyes.

"He's not fine." B.A growled as he concentrated on the road. "He's bleedin' !"

Face immediately spotted the blood-soaked sleeve of the colonel's coat and rushed to the back of the van to get the medical supplies that he'd stolen from the ranger's station earlier that day.  
Funny how it already seemed so long ago.  
As he returned, he helped Hannibal out of his coat and dress shirt and noted with a sigh of relief that his commander had only taken a graze to the upper arm.  
Face applied a quick tourniquet before cleaning the wound.

"You really took a good beating, Hannibal," Face said, eyeing the already notable swelling on Hannibal's face in concern.

"Yeah," Hannibal chortled, both grinning and wincing at the same time while carefully touching his cheekbone.

"But you should've seen the other party!"

B.A shook his head disapprovingly as he took a turn and they entered the highway.

"How's he doing?" Hannibal asked while pointedly looking at Murdock.

"Oh, he keeps drifting in and out. But when he's awake, he's showing bits of his howling mad self again." Face said, looking at the pilot who stirred restlessly in his sleep.

"I'm actually not sure if that's a good thing or not," he added with a little hint of his usual sarcasm. Hannibal laughed.

Face frowned slightly. He contemplated if he should tell Hannibal that the pilot was dreaming other things as well. But he knew his buddy would probably be embarrassed about it if he did.

"Why does he keep talking about stretching his limbs, though?" Face looked up at his commander with a puzzled look on his features.

"Did he tell you?"

Hannibal shrugged. "Beats the hell out of me, kid."

"He's just a fool," B.A grunted from the driver's seat. "That's why.."

* * *

It was rather early in the morning when B.A woke up stiffly in an old fauteuil that he'd dragged inside Maggie Sullivan's doctor's office.

He rubbed his eyes and groggily looked around the dim lit room in a moment of confusion. Then the slow train of memories started to come back to him, and he remembered where he was.  
B.A glanced over at the sleeping man on the stretcher next to him. Only wisps of messy hair, his closed eyes and part of his pointy nose were visible from under the blanket. Murdock frowned and stirred lightly in his sleep, still looking pale, but to B.A's relief not as gaunt as he'd been the other day.

B.A stood up and stretched his painfully rigid limbs while recollecting the events of the previous night.

After a long and exhausting drive, they'd arrived at Maggie's place around 2 am in the morning.  
Maggie had been waiting for them in anticipation and ran outside the moment B.A had parked the van in front of her house.  
Together with Tawnia she helped to bring in Murdock and wheeled him into her doctor's office. He was in need of a new unit of blood, and replacement of his anti-biotics and fluids. Although B.A was exhausted from the long journey, he'd insisted on giving his crazy friend an immediate blood transfusion since their rare AB negative was a match.  
After briefly examining the lanky pilot, Maggie hooked them up before tending to Hannibal's wounds.

B.A sighed as he remembered the relief he'd felt when he learned that Hannibal had only taken a graze. Running through the corridors of the hospital, the colonel had scared him out of his mind. That was _two times_ that the man had cheated Death that day.  
As B.A lay on the exam table while giving his blood to his crazy friend for a change, he'd finally managed to let go some of the last bits of tension he'd been building up during their trip. Murdock's sleep had been fitful, but he'd stayed asleep most of their journey. Even during the blood transfer, he only woke up for a short moment before drifting off again.  
After the transfer, B.A had slipped off the table and, to his own surprise, stood swaying on his legs.  
Maggie caught him instantly and sat him down with a plate of food and a huge glass of milk. After some arguing, she agreed to let him have his meal in her doctor's office instead. That way he could stay with Murdock and keep an eye on the fool while the others had their dinner in the kitchen and did some much needed catching up.  
Tawnia, who had been relieved to see everybody safe and sound, had soon excused herself and taken a cab back to her home in L.A.

B.A was glad that he didn't have to join the others. Instead, he'd savored the silence of the room while listening to the calm breathing of the pilot.  
The mechanic was well aware of the every-day risks each of the guys took while being part of the A-team.  
But still. Though he would never admit it to any of them, today's happenings had rattled him for sure.

B.A flexed his arms and yawned..  
After one last glance at the sleeping pilot, the bulky mechanic headed for the kitchen to fetch himself an ice-cold glass of milk.  
Entering the living room, he held his hands over his golden chains and tiptoed around the sleeping Face, who had made himself comfortable under an old frayed blanket on the couch. Even in his sleep, the handsome features of the man looked worn-out. And B.A knew that Hannibal, who was sleeping in Maggie's room, wouldn't look much better. Their ordeal had been strenuous to all of them, to say the least.

B.A was deep in thought while finding his way into the kitchen.  
He opened the fridge and was happy to find a fresh gallon of milk. Then he absentmindedly searched the cabinets for a drinking glass.  
Just as he opened one of the top cabinet doors, a big white paper bag of flour fell forward and landed right on top of his mohawk.

A crash and a loud curse could be heard, and woke up everybody in the house.

* * *

Darkness and confusion blurred Murdock's mind as he tried to make his way through the tall elephant grass. He felt parched and had the feeling he'd been wandering through the jungle for hours and hours. Something wasn't right.  
Where was his Huey? And where were the guys?  
He _had_ to find the guys. What if they were in trouble?

As he slowly struggled through the fuzzy looking weeds, a sudden jingly sound, like metal on metal, made him stop in track. Pricking up his ears, he realized he wasn't alone and his neck hairs rose in fear.  
He couldn't see over the tall grass, but there was definitely a presence right behind him.  
As fear slowly overtook him, the lanky pilot started running. But before he could even take so much as ten steps, his legs started to stretch and grow longer and longer.  
The grass around him was growing too and suddenly it grasped him around the ankles, making him fall face forward on the grassy jungle floor.  
As Murdock staggered back to his feet, there was an angry shout in the distance.

"Smith! Where are you!?"

Was that Decker's voice? That didn't make sense. What was he doing here in the jungle?  
Distant taunting voices could be heard in a reply, but Murdock couldn't make up the words. It sounded familiar. Hannibal? Face?  
Feeling slightly hopeful, Murdock tried to follow the direction of the sounds but a sudden pain flared through his body and his knees buckled.  
Gasping, he grasped his shoulder and looked down with puzzled eyes. He was wearing his pilot jacket and there was a gaping hole in his shoulder.  
A little light shone right through his upper torso for dramatic effect. Murdock swallowed hard as his mind started racing. That was odd.  
Did he get shot? But when did _that_ happen? Shouldn't he be bleeding? He couldn't remember.  
And why wasn't he wearing his regulatory flight suit? Was he even in Vietnam? or...

Then, all of the sudden, there was a loud crash and an angry shout and cursing. Murdock sat bolt upright on his stretcher, gasping for air.  
His terrified eyes were wide open, but his mind was still enprisoned by his dream.  
Instincts instantly told him to take cover!  
As his waking nightmare continued, the lanky man nervously looked around. All he could see was the neverending elephant grass and jungle trees surrounding him.  
Murdock clumsily climbed off the stretcher and hurried forward to dive into the undergrowth. But before he could get anywhere, his arm was forcefully pulled backward and the pilot was forced to stop in mid-track. A hiss of pain escaped his lips.  
Then he realized the strange tension around his arm and slowly turned his head.  
Horror struck his muzzy mind as he looked right into the yellow eyes of a vicious snake that curled its slippery body around his elbow.  
Without a warning, the snake struck and bit him hard in his elbow pit. Acting on impulse, Murdock yanked his arm as hard as he could and with a yelp of pain, he escaped the grips of the terrible serpent.  
Stumbling backward, he crashed right into a small cabinet with medical equipment and caused a series of bottles to shatter on the floor with a loud crash.  
Holding himself upward on a tree branch, Murdock frowned, wondering why there was a cabinet in the jungle.  
But there was no time to give it too much thought. A nearby sound of commotion made Murdock jump.  
He needed to hide. And Quick!

Without even wondering why the heck there was a white door half hidden behind the elephant grass, Murdock opened it and stumbled his way inside. Quickly closing the door behind him, he was promptly left in total darkness. He knew he had been hiding just right in time.  
Behind the door, he could hear the enemy searching for him.  
With nothing to defend himself with, Murdock did the only thing he could think of.  
He made himself as small as possible and shielded his face with his good arm.

* * *

B.A had woken up the house with his loud cries of anger.  
Covered in flour, he cursed for the umpteenth time as Face, Hannibal and Maggie hurried into the kitchen to see what was going on.

After recovering from the scare he gave them, they couldn't help but laugh at the scene in front of them.  
In the middle of a big pile of flour stood B.A, wiping his face viciously while snarling at his sniggering teammates. His clothes, beard, eyebrows and mohawk were all covered in white.

Throwing caution at bay, Face approached his friend and started patting off clouds of flour from B.A's back.

"Trying out a new look, B.A?" he sniggered. "I must say, you would do great as one of the three ghosts in Charles Dicken's Christmas Carol."

"If you don't shut yo' mouth, I'll make sure you'll be playin' alongside me as a _real_ ghost!" was B.A's brisk response.

Suddenly, a loud yelp could be heard, followed shortly by a smashing sound of breaking glass. Face and Hannibal looked at each other in alert before following B.A into the doctor's office. Barging into the room the bulky man noted the empty stretcher with the disconnected IV lines dangling to the floor. There were broken bottles on the ground and splinters of glass everywhere. But no sign of the crazy man.  
Where was the fool?

"Murdock! where are you, man?" B.A bellowed.

No sound.

"There!" Face pointed at the small trail of blood drops on the floor that led to the cupboard.

B.A hurried to the door and opened it carefully.  
His eyes widened as he found the crazy man huddled in a corner of the small space covering his face with one arm while holding the other arm protectively against his chest.

"Murdock?" He said softly, trying not to scare the man.

At hearing his name, Murdock lifted his head cautiously and frowned while trying to focus on the blurry shape in front of him.

"Are you okay, buddy?"

Murdock definitely knew that voice. Slowly rising to a sitting position, the jungle around him started to change into white walls and cardboard boxes. Murdock took up his surroundings with mild surprise. Slowly, he realized he was sitting in some sort of cupboard.  
Then he focused on the big man in front of him again who was still talking to him in a soft matter.  
He was sure he knew this man. But..noooo.. it couldn't be...?

"S-Santa?" Murdock croaked hesitantly.

"COME AGAIN SUCKA?!" was the harsh reply.

Murdock winced involuntarily, realizing the terrible mistake he'd just made. This was definitely not Santa.

"B-Big guy?" Murdock tried again. A little more careful this time while holding up his hands defensively in front of his face.

He swallowed hard, not noticing the soft chuckles coming from the room behind the bulky man.

"Got that right, fool..." B.A said grumpily before bending forward and picking up the crazy man from the ground.

Standing on his own feet now, but supported by B.A, Murdock looked around and noticed the smiling faces of both Face and Hannibal  
He beamed back at them with his own lopsided grin.

"Good to see you up, Captain!" Hannibal smiled while placing a hand on the pilot's good shoulder.

"How are you feeling, buddy?" Face asked, looking his friend up and down in concern.

Murdock looked around, a feeling of calmness washing over him. He wasn't in the jungle, or back in Vietnam anymore. It had all been a bad dream, or a flashback...  
How long had he been off his medication anyway?  
But that didn't matter right now. The guys were all here, which meant everything would be all right.

"Much... better...," Murdock sighed with a weary smile.

And he really _did_ feel a lot better already.

"So," He said after a long dramatic pause, noticing his wobbly legs with slight concern.

"Whom of you guys is willing to help me to the little room...

Cause I fear that I _really really really REALLY_ needda empty ma tank!"

* * *

TBC


	16. Chapter 16 - Things unsaid

* * * NOTE * * *

Hey everyone. How are you doing? I know, it's been a while since my last update.  
Although this chapter was already fully written in my mind, I simply didn't have time to write it down. But now I have, and I hope I can still engage you with my ramblings!  
My next and final chapter is coming up soon! I'm hoping to update and finish this story right before leaving for a short vacation. Fingers crossed. I LOVE it when a story comes together.

Oh by the way, I keep saying it, but thanks thanks thanks for the reviews and lovely comments that you've given me on my previous chapter. I loved chatting with some of you.

Please enjoy!  
Cheers!

* * *

Chapter 16: Things unsaid

It was quite early in the morning when a loud twitter of birds filled the bedroom of an old wooden cabin in the woods.  
Face stirred slightly in his sleep as a small ray of sunlight crept through the thin and frayed curtains and illuminated his handsome features.  
The dreaming conman frowned slightly as the beam playfully reached his closed eyelids. Face turned his head away from the light while mumbling something that sounded vaguely like a girl's name.  
The sunbeam, not easily discouraged, slowly crept further and further into the room until it reached Face's eyes once more.  
The conman grimaced and made and annoyed and grumbly sound as he pulled the blanket over his head and turned his back on the rather shiny intruder.  
In the meantime, a small but vigorous woodpecker took great care in selecting the tree trunk right outside Face's window to fetch himself some early breakfast.  
After finding the perfect spot, it braced itself and thus the rapid tapping began.

*Takkatakkatakkatakka*

"Urgh...why meee...!" Face groaned from under his blanket.

*Takkatakkatakkatakka*

The rickety bed squeaked loudly as the man firmly turned around on his belly and covered his head with his pillow.  
This solution worked for about... 2 minutes.

*Takkatakkatakkatakka*

Gasping for fresh air, Face's head surfaced again. Peeking at the dial of his watch he moaned long and low this time.  
5:08 AM?! It was _way_ too early to NOT be asleep! Why couldn't those birds just shut the hell up and leave him be!

Turning around on his back again, Face stared around the room in clear annoyance. He rubbed his tired eyes and lazily combed a hand through his messy bed hair.  
The room was small and bare with rough wooden walls and a worn-out oak floor. In a corner stood an old chair that was missing a leg. Face's clothes lay on top of it, folded neatly into a small pile. The chair was the only piece of furniture in the room, except for the bed.

Face sighed.  
Their temporary resort was quite basic, but it was still better than nothing. A lick of paint, some furniture and some repairs here and there would do the place some good.  
The conman had acquired the old wooden cabin some time ago. As always, he'd been thinking ahead, reasoning with the team that it would be a great refuge when they needed to lay low or simply needed some time off.  
And its location was great! The cabin was located on the far edge of Big Bear City and surrounded by lots of pine trees, supplying them with much-needed privacy. It wasn't too far away from L.A, and it was remote enough to stay clear from snooping eyes.

The house itself was old, but roomy.  
The lower level functioned as both a storage and garage. The living area could only be reached by stairs.  
There was a small living room, a plain kitchen, a shabby old bathroom, and three small bedrooms supplied with beds. One of them had bunk beds (to Murdock's delight). The cabin had once belonged to a family with kids that used the house as a holiday home. But they stopped using it and the cabin had been neglected for years.

*Takkatakkatakkatakka*

Mr. woodpecker was still happily tapping the tree, trying to obtain some more insects.  
The slatted frame creaked warningly as Face slowly sat up in his bed. He realized that sleeping was out of the question.  
Oh..how he missed his apartment in L.A.  
Deep in his heart, he'd always been a city boy. Trees and birds weren't really his thing. In fact, he was happiest when surrounded by beauty and contemporary design. After all, he was a man with exceptional taste and needs.

"But, I mustn't complain!" Face told himself sternly while thinking of the recent events.

They'd made it out of a rather tight situation, and he couldn't help but feel glad that he was here in this ramshackle cabin, together with the guys. 'ALL' the guys.  
Their adventure could've ended up quite differently. Face didn't want to think of the alternative.

As he stood up, he collected his toiletries from his duffel bag and opened the door of his room. The house was quiet. It seemed nobody was up yet.  
However, as he headed for the bathroom on tiptoes, he heard a quiet voice coming from one of the rooms. The door stood slightly ajar, and Face approached it cautiously.  
Peeking into the room, Face noticed that he wasn't the only one who was up early and couldn't sleep.  
Sitting on the edge of his bed was Murdock. He was dressed in his usual khaki pants and Napoleon t-shirt while talking, bare feet, to a pair of bright white socks that lay in front of him on the wooden floor.  
Face recognized them immediately. Only a week ago he'd bought his friend about a dozen new tennis socks.  
Murdock, who'd been both surprised and thrilled about the mysterious package, was totally oblivious to the reason of receiving such an odd gift. Even Hannibal and B.A had raised an eyebrow or two, but they didn't ask Face about his intentions, and Face wasn't going to explain.  
It was a simple promise he'd made to his friend and a promise he'd meant to keep.  
Murdock's voice pulled the conman out of his ponderings again.

"Now you guys. Since you're new here, I'd like to introduce you to my feet." Murdock said while wiggling his toes.

"Now before you go protesting on me: I know these fellas can be a bit tenacious from time to time. They like to run around a lot and aren't afraid of getting dirty. You might find your duties increasingly onerous, but you'll get used to it. In fact, I bet you'll become bestest budd..."

"Shut up fool, I wanna sleep!"

Face jumped as the sharp voice of B.A interrupted the pilots' sock-speech.

Murdock looked around in horror.

"But B.A, I need to..."

"I said SHUT UP or I'll get down and shut you up myself!"

Face rolled his eyes with slight amusement and continued his way to the bathroom, ignoring the squabble coming from the small bedroom.  
He'd seen Murdock perform this ritual a couple of times now. Every new pair of socks received an early morning introduction, complete with a full tour around the cabin. This to the great dismay of the bulky sergeant who was sharing the bunk-bed-bedroom with the lanky pilot.  
Hannibal had been watching the crazy man's antics with amusement. But he'd been unusually quiet lately.  
As Face stepped into the steaming shower, he wondered what was going on in his commander's mind.  
Letting the stream of water run over his head, he closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift away while reliving the past few days.

He'd first noticed Hannibal's slight change of behavior at Maggie's place. The colonel had spent most of his time with his lady friend during their stay.  
Face didn't think much of it at first, as his commander seemed to enjoy the distraction and Murdock had been sleeping most of the time anyway. But the conman's trained instincts told him that there was something off.  
Hannibal seemed tense and, when caught off-guard, he looked troubled and absentminded. Something was bothering the man, and it didn't seem to be in his character to sulk the way he did.  
Face scowled as he reached for the shampoo and started massaging his hair until it was foamy.  
He just hated that he couldn't put his finger on it, though he did have some theories on what was causing it.

When Murdock was deemed fit enough to travel, they'd said their goodbyes to Maggie and moved to the cabin to nurse their friend back to health before returning him to the V.A where he inevitably had to face Decker at some point.  
Face had made a phone call with a plausible excuse for Murdock's prolonged absence. He wasn't sure if Dr. Richter fully accepted his story, but it had to do for now.  
That happened five days ago and it had been almost two weeks after their quandary with the military police.

After they'd all settled down and recovered from their trip, Face noticed that by now, both Hannibal and Murdock seemed to be on edge.  
And he had the feeling that B.A sensed it too because the mechanic had soon vanished out of sight, searching for things to fix around the house that could keep him away from awkward conversations. Not that he could hide for Murdock very long, though... When the lanky pilot wasn't resting, he would search for the big guy and keep him company until he needed to lay down again.

Face chuckled as he rinsed his hair. At least B.A's sudden 'fixing-fixation' had a positive effect too. After they found out that the boiler wasn't working, the bulky mechanic fixed it within a day. And a hot shower was a luxury that Face couldn't do without.

Face closed the tap, stepped out of the shower and started toweling down his wet body. With the back of his hand, he wiped away a streak of condensation from the mirror and looked at his reflection with a sigh.  
It was a pity that B.A's fixing skills couldn't be of use to fix whatever was bothering his teammates.  
Even though Murdock was recovering and slowly getting back to his old antics, he seemed to be rather quiet at times. And Hannibal, who was usually chipper and full of energy, was rather drawn back to his standards.  
It was like both men were avoiding each other whenever they could get away with it.  
When the team was together, all seemed fine. But it was like the two of them didn't want to be left alone together. The moment B.A or Face left the room, either Murdock or Hannibal would stand up and leave as well.

Face made a decision as he dressed and combed his wet hair.  
He needed to have a talk with Hannibal about this. Maybe he'd just imagined things, but he was a conman, and he knew he was quite good at reading people. There was definitely something going on, and it needed fixing.

Face felt refreshed and awake after his shower.  
As he walked through the corridor, all dressed up and clean-shaven, he could still hear B.A and Murdock bickering about the socks. Passing their room in silence, the conman dropped his toiletries in his own bedroom and headed for the kitchen to fetch himself some breakfast.  
He was surprised to find Hannibal there, up and awake and fully dressed.  
The older man was sitting at the kitchen table, seemingly deep in thought while nursing a cup of coffee between his hands. His face looked tired and troubled. It didn't go unnoticed by the conman. However, the moment Face entered the room, Hannibal looked up and quickly wiped the worry from his face.

"Morning," he said with a lively voice while beaming at Face. "I made some coffee," he added, nodding at the coffeemaker. "It's fresh."

Face smiled back.

"Good morning. I could definitely do with a cup. Having trouble getting some sleep too, huh?" He said with a meaningful look at his commander.

"I blame the fresh mountain air," Hannibal shrugged, ignoring the double message Face was sending him.

"And the birds...," Face muttered in reply as he walked to the counter to pour himself a big mug of steaming coffee.

As he returned to the kitchen table, Face settled himself opposite the colonel.

"Don't try to con a conman, Hannibal," Face thought silently while sipping his coffee and looking over the brim of his mug at his commander.  
Hannibal, pretending that he didn't notice Face's stare, glanced unseeingly out of the kitchen window.

"Hannibal...," Face started.

"Hm..?" Hannibal answered, without looking at his lieutenant.

"I think you need to have a talk with Murdock."

Hannibal quickly looked up at Face, piercing him with an icy stare. Just as Face thought his commander was going to ignore his remark, Hannibal opened his mouth to reply. But before he could answer, Murdock barged into the kitchen with a look of exasperation on his face.

"That.. was.. SO.. rude!" the crazy man mumbled with a white sock in each hand.

He took a moment to compose himself before addressing his socks again.

"Soooo, that was the big guy. They don't call him 'Bad Attitude' for nothin'. But don't ya worry. I bet you won't be seein' much of him anyway."

Murdock looked up, noticing his teammates for the first time and smiled while holding up both socks with renewed energy.

"And this is the kitchen. This is where all the jazz and possibly breakfast is happening this mornin'.  
Socks, I want you to meet my friends, Face and Hannibal. Be polite and say _how do you do_..."

Murdock waved both socks in his friend's direction.

Face rolled his eyes for the second time that morning while Hannibal hid his face by taking a sip of coffee from his mug. His expression was a mixture of both amusement and concern.

If Murdock even noticed the awkward looks on his friend's faces, he didn't care to show it. He simply crossed the kitchen and with a cheerful babble, he started opening and closing kitchen cabinets and drawers while showing their contents to the socks.

"And this is where we keep the jelly and peanutbutter..."

The conman scrutinized the lanky pilot with slight concern as he observed his friend's pale complexion and the slightly dark rimmed eyes.  
Face glanced at Hannibal and was surprised seeing the colonel following the pilot's every move with a dubious expression on his face.  
Face wasn't sure what he was seeing. Was it guilt?  
He glanced back at the lanky pilot again.  
Murdock looked a bit disheveled. His hair was feathery and uncombed, and by the way his somewhat baggy trousers were held up by his belt, it was obvious that he'd lost some weight during the last two weeks.  
Still, he looked quite energetic and seemed to be back to his usual antics.  
Face put down his coffee and stood up.

"Well, I'm going to get us some milk for breakfast. I'll take B.A with me," he said, looking at Hannibal with a meaningful stare.

Their eyes met, and after a second Hannibal nodded understandingly.  
He really needed to talk to Murdock in private. There was something he wanted to get off his chest.  
Face gave the colonel an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder before leaving the kitchen and leaving the two men alone.  
Murdock stopped his chatter and turned around right in time to see Face disappear through the kitchen door.  
Dropping his arms, he stared at Hannibal who gazed back at him with a remorseful expression on his face. A heavy silence filled the room, making both men feel rather uncomfortable.

"Murdock... I...," Hannibal started. But before he could finish the sentence, Murdock's eyes widened and he rushed to the exit door.

"Excuse me, Colonel, I - I remembered that I haven't shown these fellas the garden yet. And I'm gettin' er...cold feet!"

Before Hannibal could say anything, the lanky pilot had ran out of the kitchen, leaving the colonel alone with his, by now, stone cold coffee.  
Hannibal sighed and rubbed his eyes hard with the palms of his hands.

"That went well...," he mumbled with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

His chair made a scraping sound as he stood up to get himself a refill.

* * *

Without thinking, Murdock had dashed out of the front door and down the stairs into the garden on his bare feet... his socks still clutched in his hands.  
Murdock descended the last steps in a hurry, but the moment his feet touched the ground, he immediately jumped backward with a yelp.

"Youch!"

The forest floor was loaded with dried pine tree needles. A particularly pointy specimen was currently sticking out of his big toe. Grumbling slightly, Murdock sat down on the bottom tread of the stairs to remove the needle and, without further ado, put on his socks.

"That concludes the tour for today, guys..." he mumbled while getting back to his feet.

Looking around hastily, he noticed a small track that was leading into the forest and decided to follow it.

The moment he started walking, the lanky man immediately felt a weight drop from his shoulders. He knew he was a coward, running away from the colonel like this. But he didn't want to be in that cabin right now.  
He didn't want to see the colonel like that. And he didn't need to hear what his commander had to say. He could guess what it was of course. Though, he didn't feel like he wanted to know.  
The socks-on-tour had been a bit of an act. Or at least part of it.  
It had kept him quite occupied and distracted while skillfully avoiding any long or sincere conversations with his teammates, the colonel in particular.  
Every time he witnessed the expression in Hannibal's eyes it saddened him.  
Murdock simply didn't feel up to facing any of it yet. It was easier for him to avoid any confrontation, and concentrate on other things instead... like socks for example.  
Socks were always a great distraction.

"But..," Murdock thought while fiercely kicking a branch out of the way (and wincing).

"I'll need to face the colonel sooner or later."

After what seemed like hours of walking, Murdock started to feel slightly out of breath and sat down on a mossy tree trunk, rubbing his still tender shoulder. He looked around in the distance.  
If he looked carefully, he could still spot the tip of the cabin's roof and its chimney peeking through the pine trees. He hadn't even wandered off that far. And it clearly hadn't been hours. Just 15 minutes tops.

"Damn...!" Murdock muttered while wiping beads of sweat from his brow and leaning heavily on his good arm to keep him from tumbling off the trunk. He started to feel a bit woozy.

Steadying himself, he realized he still wasn't back to his full strength yet. The wound and its infection had really done a number on his stamina. He would have to work hard on his condition when he got back to the V.A.

The V.A...  
Murdock swallowed hard while picking up a stick and throwing it away with his good arm.  
Billy, who made a rather surprising appearance, barked loudly as he cheerfully ran after the stick to fetch it.  
As Murdock followed his invisible dog with his eyes, he sighed.  
Despite it all, he'd still rather stay at the cabin with his teammates than returning to the confining walls of his room back at the hospital.  
However, he knew it was time for him to go back.  
Murdock pulled the stick, that was now covered in drool, from Billy's mouth and threw it away again. The dog followed instantly.  
Absentmindedly, Murdock wiped his hand on his trousers, continuing his ponderings.  
They couldn't stay at the cabin forever.  
B.A had his work at the children's daycare, Hannibal had an upcoming gig for another Aquamaniac sequel, and Face...  
Murdock knew that the conman longed for his luxury apartment and social life back in L.A.

Murdock sighed and stared at the roof of the old ramshackle house again.

Yep, it was time to tell the guys.

While gathering his strength to return to the cabin, he looked down at his feet, observing his now rather dirty looking socks with interest.  
Dirt, little pine needles, and bits of dried leaf were sticking onto the previously white fabric. The lanky man wiggled his toes with slight amusement. Oopsy..

"Ahh...Faceman is _not_ gonna be happy with you guys..." he giggled softly as he stood up and made his way back to the cabin.

"Time to go home."

* * *

ALMOST FINI


	17. Chapter 17 - Fini?

* * * NOTE * * *  
Haha I thought I would only have to write one more chapter. But it seems that this story has a mind of its own.  
There is another chapter coming up. It should be the final one.  
I'm secretly hoping that more people will be writing some fun A-team fanfiction again soon. It seems to be getting a bit quiet here. :D

Anyway, I hope you like my version of the last scene of the actual episode. I used part of the script, but altered quite a bit in the end. And I couldn't prevent a certain character from my other story making a reappearance.

Cheers!

* * *

Chapter 17: Fini?

Murdock was _quite_ impressed.  
He'd just recited a beautiful Swedish poem (with quite some flair if he may say so himself) and his unwanted visitor was _still_ sitting next to him on the bench while scrutinizing him with a rather icy glare.  
If Murdock could applaud the man for listening to his poetry for the last fifteen minutes, he would. But as it was, the crazy man was slightly restricted in his movements. Straightjackets tended to cause such nuisance.

Murdock decided to shoot Decker one of his best mentally unstable glares.  
Usually, this would throw people off their saddle immediately. But Decker didn't seem to buy it.  
Bummer, because he was running out of ideas.  
Maybe he should recite the hospital's lunch card instead... The menu sounded rather exotic today.

Murdock shrugged. He had to give it to the Colonel, though.  
Surely, this was a man who didn't give up easily. Apparently the word 'quitting' wasn't part of his dictionary. Or maybe Roderick Decker was just naturally stubborn like that.  
Whatever it was, the commander was still here with no intention to leave until he had the answers he wanted.  
The lanky pilot, however, didn't feel the urge to offer him any information at all and he almost felt sorry for the man.  
If it was up to him, Decker could wait until hell was freezing over.  
 _How_ to get rid of this guy?  
Talking with another funny accent, Murdock decided to try out a new angle.

"I used to love visitors, Colonel, I really do. You're sure you won't change your mind and stay for lunch?" Murdock began.

"I believe we're having... er...pickled zucchini skins... And... er.. salad... and..," Murdock pretended to be thinking.

"Oh! And Tapioca pudding stuffed with coconut flakes and on top of it a stewed prune.  
I love it. I JUST LOVE IT..."

Murdock paused dramatically for effect while sending the Colonel another disturbed look.  
But it was to no avail. Decker kept his face straight and stared back at him with a blank expression on his features.  
Drat...  
Was that man even capable of showing emotions, or had his momma just made him this way? Murdock couldn't help but wonder.

"Decker must be great at poker..." he thought wearily while stirring his arms inside his straightjacket and wincing ever so slightly.

Murdock's healing shoulder started to feel rather stiff in his restraints. He was longing to stretch his arms, but first, he needed to get rid of this rather persistent intruder.  
Sitting in the sun on the bench for so long while keeping up appearances and waiting for the colonel to arrive, was slowly taking its toll. Small drops of sweat were trickling down his temple, and he hated that he couldn't wipe them away.  
On top of that, Decker's scrutiny was rather intimidating. Not that Murdock was going to let it show, though.  
He'd been practicing on his own crazy poker face for years...

* * *

Colonel Decker stared at the insane man who was sitting next to him and he was wondering if he wasn't just wasting his time.  
Seeing Captain Murdock crouched down on top of the bench in a straightjacket made it hard to believe that this man was once considered one of the best combat pilots in 'Nam.  
Every psychiatrist he'd spoken to assured him that the former pilot had indeed snapped during the war and was considered mentally unstable.  
Still.., Decker had this rather unsatisfying hunch that the craziness of the lanky man was just an act to protect his friends.  
He knew in fact that the A-team regularly showed up to break him out of the hospital when they needed him on a job.

However...he wasn't here on an official visit.

Not many people knew about it yet, but Decker and Crane had both been suspended and taken off the A-team case. Officially, he wasn't even allowed to investigate as much as a wheel track anymore. But the colonel just couldn't let go yet. The moment he heard that Murdock had made his appearance at the V.A, Decker immediately arranged a meeting with the crazy pilot.

His last encounter with the A-team had been one of the biggest humiliations in his entire career, and he was obsessively trying to find out _how_ those wretched men had managed to trick him that day.

Decker had reasons to believe that the wounded man he'd seen during their last confrontation had in fact been Murdock and not Peck.  
Obviously, the facial wounds could've been a disguise. But the shoulder injury appeared to be quite real...  
There was only one way to find out.

As Murdock summed up the entire list of the hospital's lunch card, the Colonel observed the lanky pilot with increasing interest. The man looked skinny, and his lips and skin were a tad bit pale which could indicate recent blood loss or illness.  
He was transpiring slightly, even though the temperature was mild that afternoon.  
When the man finally stopped rambling, Decker made his move.

"It would be in your best interest to help me find Smith and the others, son. " Decker said while placing a hand on the man's left shoulder.

Murdock looked at him in alarm.

"Sometimes they come in here _and break you out_."

Decker squeezed hard while emphasizing the last words.

If the commander wanted a response, he surely was getting one.  
Murdock hissed and jumped up from his crouched position, releasing himself from the colonel's firm grip.

"That's LIES!", he shouted, with a face that had turned gray.

"Lies!" he repeated while taking a step backward on the bench. He wobbled slightly while trying to find his balance.

He hadn't expected the colonel to touch him. And he surely didn't expect the man to hurt him.  
A shot of pain ran through his shoulder and black dots were starting to blind his vision. Murdock blinked hard, willing the dizziness away while trying hard to regain focus. He had to keep his act together no matter what. He had to protect the team!

"T-They're just unproven h-half-truths." He stuttered while shooting an angry glare at Decker.

Quickly recovering, Murdock regained his train of thought and added: "It's... it's because of them..,"

The lanky man looked knowingly at a spot on the ground next to the colonel's feet. Decker followed his gaze but, of course, didn't see anything.

"They're after me," Murdock continued with a tone of conspiracy in his voice, still staring at the non-existent enemy on the ground.

"They're spreading lies and rumors and they're waiting for me to make a mistake!"

Keeping up his act, Murdock squatted down on the seat of the bench and peeked over the edge.

"They tried to capture me, but I was too fast for them. Now they're waiting... Waiting for me to come down.  
But I won't!"

Decker looked up at Murdock with a look of disbelief and irritation on his face.

"Oh come on, Colonel!" Murdock yelled while rising back to his full length and looking down at the commander.

"Why do you think I'm sitting here on top of this bench? I'm _not_ up here for the fresh air!" Murdock snarled, rather aggressively.

"They keep chasing me everywhere!"

"I can't even go to picnics anymore without them following me..." he added, staring at the colonel with crazy eyes. Anger was still boiling in the back of his mind and he needed to calm down.

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Come on Colonel, when are you going to budge!" Murdock pleaded silently.

He turned his face away from Decker and started to fake cry.

Decker blinked, made a decision and stood up without saying a word.  
There was no need to bother this disturbed man any longer.  
Decker knew enough.  
As the colonel got to his feet, the pilot immediately stopped sobbing and gave Decker a questioning look.

Maybe the man was truly insane, or maybe he was just very good at faking it. But Decker was a 100% sure that it had been Murdock, and not Peck who's life had been at stake during their last encounter.  
Even though Murdock tried to hide behind a wall of craziness, he'd recognized a man in pain when he saw one.  
Not that it really mattered, though.  
He was still suspended for the next few months, and there was 'no way' he was going to aid or inform his successor in any way. The unfortunate guy would have to deal with the A-team on his own.  
But at least this visit had given the colonel some satisfying answers.  
Maybe he could learn from his mistakes next time.

Ignoring Murdock's fake pleads to stay, Decker stepped into his car and drove off, wishing his soon to be replacement all the luck in the world to capture the A-team, knowing the man would probably fail anyway.

* * *

As Murdock watched the colonel leave, he heaved a sigh of relief.  
That had been a close call.  
He wasn't sure if he'd read the colonel correctly, but he had a bad foreboding that Decker 'knew'...  
The man had caught him completely off guard and Murdock wasn't sure if he'd been able to fool him completely.  
Anyway... It was time to get rid of that straightjacket. He had an itch right behind his left shoulderblade that needed some attention. It was driving him nuts.

Still feeling sore, the lanky man carefully stepped off the bench and hopped over to a dense group of trees and bushes, knowing that behind the foliage, his team was waiting for him.  
Murdock arrived just in time to hear Face speak up.

"Hannibal, you got to hand it to Decker. The man does try!"

Hannibal chuckled while lighting his cigar. "He gets an A for effort but an F for results."

"Hey Murdock, that was a pretty nasty move Decker made there!" Face said when Murdock appeared from behind the trees.

The conman looked at his friend in concern.

"You okay, pal?"

They'd all been watching the scene from their hiding place, and the moment Face saw Deckers' move, B.A had to stop him from blowing their cover and rushing over to the other colonel to punch him in the gut.  
Murdock grinned a toothy smile.

"It's nothing, Face." He reassured his friend. "I'm just fine and dandy."

Turning around to B.A who stood closest to him, he added:

"Hey, B.A, won't you give me a hand and unbutton me, buddy?"

B.A raised an eyebrow.

"No way fool!" he said instantly while placing his hands on his hips to accentuate his words.

"You can pound yourself in the ground, and scratch your knees with your ears before I let you out of _that_!"

Murdock's eyes widened in surprise at B.A's gruffness.

"But B.A, I thought we were friends!" he said with a clearly hurt voice.

"And... And I thought you carried me through the woods over your shoulder and looked into my pain filled eyes and helped me rally my strength…"

"Didn't he?" Murdock thought, looking positively puzzled.

B.A suppressed a smile and frowned hard at the crazy man.

"What are you talking about, fool! I don't remember none of that. You're just a crazy man, seeing things that ain't there!"

The muscular sergeant turned to Hannibal and Face with a big grin on his face, leaving a perplexed Murdock alone in his straightjacket.  
Murdock pouted. Had he only imagined it? Or was the big guy just messing with him? He started to doubt his own mind sometimes.  
With a grin on his face, Hannibal came to the rescue.

"Let me help you with that, Captain," Hannibal said, turning Murdock around on his heels.

The colonel silently started working on the belts and loops of the straightjacket with his cigar clenched between his teeth. A minute later, the lanky pilot gingerly stretched his arms with a happy sigh, glad to be ridden off the painful restraints.

"Thanks, Colonel," he said quietly.

"You're welcome," Hannibal replied with a cheerful note in his voice. "Now let's get you back to your room, shall we? Let me take you there."

He put out his cigar and put on a white doctor's coat while Face stepped into the bushes to retrieve a carefully hidden wheelchair.  
B.A stood close to Murdock, crossing his arms threateningly, and making sure his friend wasn't going to bolt this time.  
Murdock froze on the spot while looking at his friends with disbelieving eyes.  
Did they set him up?  
He wasn't sure if he wanted to be alone with the Colonel just yet. It meant that they were going to have _the talk_... And he didn't want to hear _the talk_. He didn't prepare for _the talk_!  
But before he could make a run for it, Face stepped forward and helped him into the wheelchair.

"You'll be seeing us real soon, buddy," he said while patting Murdock sympathetically on the back.

Murdock stared at his friend with a miserable pout on his face. Was his friend ditching him?  
But before he could protest the matter, Hannibal started pushing the wheelchair toward the entrance of the hospital.  
Face shot the colonel one last encouraging look. A gesture that Murdock didn't miss and made him frown. B.A just looked gloomier than ever and grunted a 'Good luck'.  
Hannibal nodded and smiled at his men as he wheeled the pilot back to his room.

Murdock sighed with an air of resignation.  
Well... if there was no way out of this... let's have it then...

* * *

STILL ALMOST FINI


	18. Chapter 18 - FINI

* * * NOTE * * *  
Yayyy, the final chapter.  
Thanks for the recent reviews and private messages. I just returned from a 2 week vacation and found some time to round up my story with this last chapter.  
I personally always felt there was a need for Hannibal and Murdock to talk. It didn't necessarily have to be part of the actual episode. But I decided that I wanted to write it anyway.  
I hope you enjoyed my version of this story.  
Cheers!

Robin.

* * *

Chapter 18: FINI

As Hannibal wheeled Murdock into the psychiatric ward, a helpful orderly held the door for them. Hannibal acknowledged the man with a curt nod, trying to look like a classified doctor who just wheeled in his patient after a session. He didn't want to draw any attention to himself since his disguise was rather minimal. Though, he expected no problems at this point. Decker had arrived alone, and the guys had scanned the perimeter thoroughly that day.  
However, the colonel was watchful as a hawk.  
He couldn't help it.

The past few weeks; guilt had been gnawing at him.  
He failed his men, and especially his Captain.  
It had been such a rookie mistake to make; turning his back on the enemy. The jazz had taken over, and the smell of victory had blinded him. His negligence could've killed the Captain, and it shouldn't have happened at all.

Deep inside, Hannibal knew that the Jazz would probably take his life some day...  
There would come a time that he would make another mistake and this time there wouldn't be someone to catch that bullet for him.  
Funny enough, Hannibal was okay with that. He enjoyed living on the edge and knew very well that his actions weren't without a risk.  
But the fact that he almost lost one of his men due to his own carelessness was an unforgivable mistake.

The older man sighed as he pushed Murdock's wheelchair down the hall.  
Murdock had been rather quiet and tense. The only thing audible during their walk was the faint squeak of the wheels and the soft but nervous tapping of Murdock's shoe on the footplate of the wheelchair.  
That wasn't a good sign, Hannibal noted.  
He wondered what he should say to the captain.  
Where to start?

"Ding Dong - You've now reached your destination," Murdock chimed in, abruptly interrupting the colonel's thoughts.  
The lanky man quickly hopped out of the wheelchair before Hannibal could park it next to the door of the room.  
As the pilot entered the room, Hannibal could hear him make a loud gasping sound.

"Noooo, no, no, NO. You DIDN'T!", Murdock squealed.

A splashing sound could be heard, along with a surprised shout from a second person in the room.  
Hannibal immediately hurried inside to step right into a flurry of movement.  
Murdock was standing protectively with arms and legs spread against the wall, trying hard to prevent an orderly from touching the surface with a scrubbing brush. A bucket lay on its side, spilling water all over the floor.

"Seriously, Mr. Murdock, I have to clean it up!" The man protested, raising his plastic gloved hands in exasperation.

"What's happening here?" Hannibal asked, eyeing both Murdock and the orderly with a stern gaze.

Murdock sounded hurt as he answered. "He cleaned up my _masterpiece_!"

The orderly turned to Hannibal and shrugged apologetically.

"Mr. Murdock made a mess earlier, and I have orders to clean it up, Dr..." The man's eyes swiftly glanced over Hannibal's name batch for a second, and added, "Dr. Simpson."

"I see," Hannibal said with a contemplative look on his face while observing the scene in front of him. He had trouble keeping his face straight.

"Could you come back later and leave me alone with my patient? I am in a session right now."

"But sir, I'm not done yet..." The orderly protested.

" _NOW_ , please," Hannibal barked.

"Yessir,"

The man shrank a little at the colonel's natural authority. Then he quickly picked up the bucket, the scrubbing brush, and a big bottle of bleach and made his way to the exit. After one last cautious glance at Murdock, he left the room and closed the door behind him.  
Murdock immediately turned around to inspect his wall. He sniffed it gingerly before taking a step back and putting his hands on his hips with a satisfied look on his face.

"At least he didn't dare to use ammonia again.." he mumbled with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Meanwhile, Hannibal looked around the small room with a look of surprise on his face. The first things he noticed was the state of the place. It was complete mayhem, which seemed uncharacteristic for the Captain.

Sure, Murdock could be chaotic at times and leave things laying around (much to the annoyance of B.A who liked to keep things orderly and tidy). But this was different.  
It was actually 'hard' to see the floor, as it was covered with comic books, paper planes, small cereal box toys, cereal, socks and more. Hannibal even thought he spotted a couple of trash bags (which immediately brought back some fond memories).

Close to where Murdock was standing, a fauteuil was lying on its side. A couple of frames with some photos had fallen off the wall. And there were bones...  
The life-sized skeleton, which, for reasons still unknown to the colonel, Murdock was allowed to keep in his room (he named him Bob), was spread all over the place for good measure.  
Its skull was hanging mournfully in the basketball net that was mounted on the wall. One of its bony arms was peeping out of a cabinet drawer and a couple of random ribs were found lingering in the sink.  
After searching for the bottom part of the skeleton, Hannibal spotted the ivory legs and feet on the bed. They were peeping out from under the blanket and made it look like Bob was actually taking a nap there.

Hannibal plastered his gaze on Murdock again.  
The captain was still staring at the wall, which, after closer inspection, had a huge purplish stain on it.  
Apparently, whatever it was, had been hard to clean away completely.

"Philistines! They're all Philistines" Murdock muttered while making exaggerated dramatic gestures.

"Sooo, what happened here?" Hannibal asked calmly.

"Lunch happened," Murdock answered matter of factly.

"Turns out you can't fold a blackberry jelly sandwich like a paper plane." He said, rubbing his tender shoulder absentmindedly.

"And believe me, I tried."

"Soooo...?" Hannibal started again, trying to guess what happened next.

"So I tested them anyway, in the name of science..." Murdock filled in. "You know... to study their aerodynamics..."

"Right..." Hannibal noted dryly. He wasn't sure if he should, but he asked anyway:

"And did you learn anything interesting from that research?"

Murdock shrugged, "I guess I found out that sandwiches aren't particularly made to fly."

"Figures," Hannibal said airily while studying the back of the captain.

There was a long silence. Murdock fidgeted with his hands, still standing with his back to Hannibal.

The tension rose while Hannibal waited. When Murdock remained silent, the colonel decided it was time to speak up.

"Murdock..," Hannibal started. "I want to..."

But before he could finish, Murdock suddenly continued his narrative as if he'd stopped babbling mid-sentence and simply pushed the play button of a cassette-deck again.

"...After throwing them, they're not particularly made to eat either."

He spoke as if Hannibal hadn't said a thing.  
Murdock scratched the surface of the wall with his finger nail.

"The same counts for stewed prunes by the way. You can throw them, but they only remain airborne for so long...,"

"Murdock..." Hannibal sighed while dragging the name with slight agitation.

He was starting to lose his patience.  
If the Captain kept interrupting him with small talk, he would never get a chance to talk with him. And knowing him well, he knew the babbling could continue for hours.

"...And I learned that I really hate stewed prunes," Murdock shrugged, pretending he hadn't heard Hannibal.

Even though the colonel felt a little annoyed by the interruption, he couldn't help his curiosity.

"You hate them? I thought you told Decker you loved them?"

Murdock chuckled.

"Don't always believe the words of a crazy man, Colonel." Murdock smiled with a crazy glint in his eyes while turning around and facing his commander for the first time since entering the room.

"But throwing them in the name of science was fun. Turns out my lunch made up for some pretty abstract wall art too!"

Hannibal hesitated, wondering what direction the conversation was heading.  
He started to worry about his pilot. There was something off about him today.

"Surely it would've been better to _eat_ your lunch?" he asked hesitantly.

"It would." Murdock nodded. "... I'm a little peckish, to be honest... "

Hannibal made a mental note to get the captain something to eat later.

"But why all this, Murdock?" Hannibal said, gesturing toward the messy room.

He didn't understand.  
What had driven Murdock to this behavior? Of course, he knew he could always expect the unexpected from the lanky pilot.  
But this seemed, even to Murdock's standards, a bit extreme.

Murdock's fists balled as he started to lose his temper.

"What do you expect?" He said with a voice that rose a few octaves.

"Keeping up with everybody's expectations is hard work!  
They don't just give you a straightjacket for nothing, you know... You have to _earn_ it!"

Murdock stuck his hands deep in his pants pocket while looking at his feet and bouncing on his heels. He frowned as he continued.

"Colonel Decker instantly made an appointment when I returned, So I didn't have much time to work on a cover story. I had to improvise..."

Ah, so _that_ was what happened!  
Hannibal finally understood. Murdock had to keep up appearances. Even if it meant he had to give up his freedom and get himself in a humiliating straight jacket again.  
The colonel knew how much Murdock hated these restraints. But he did it gladly for the sake of keeping the team safe.  
As he looked at the captain, he felt his feelings of guilt increase like a big knot in his stomach. He could feel the mask, which he had been trying to keep up all this time, slowly dissolve, and It didn't go unnoticed.

"Don't - Don't do that..." Murdock said, backing away and talking with a low voice.

"Do what?" Hannibal said in alarm.

"That look. Don't look at me like that!" Murdock said, his voice raising slightly.

Hannibal took a step toward the captain, but Murdock flinched and took a few steps backward.

"I don't need that. I don't want your pity!"

Hannibal cringed at these words.  
Pity? No, Murdock was misinterpreting this whole situation. It wasn't _pity_ that was bothering the colonel. Was it?  
Hannibal's mind was racing. He needed to put this right.  
Murdock had resided to the window and was now angrily staring outside with his hands still dug deep in his pants pockets.  
Hannibal walked to the window and stood next to the man, silently relieved that the pilot didn't back away this time.  
The colonel desperately wanted to tell Murdock what was going on in his mind.  
He wanted, no..., he 'needed' to tell him how sorry he was about this whole situation.

"Captain, I…"

"I don't want you to _say_ it either." Murdock snapped without looking at his commander. "I don't want you to say you're sorry because there's no need."

Hannibal swallowed. Maybe he underestimated the Captain. He seemed to understand the situation a whole lot better than he did himself.

"Murdock..," Hannibal tried again.

"Don't...Hannibal…It's _fine_..." Murdock sighed. He was feeling tired, and this whole conversation was draining him quickly off his last bits of energy.

Hannibal looked at Murdock. He hesitated for a second before simply putting a hand on the captain's shoulder. Together they stared out of the window, saying nothing for a while.

"Are you mad at me?" Hannibal finally broke the silence.

He didn't dare to look at the man standing next to him.  
Murdock's eyes widened as he quickly turned his head and looked at the colonel in wonder.

"Mad at you? No! No, I'm not mad…. Well, I _am_ mad... technically speaking, but not at you.."

Hannibal chuckled, relieved the pilot was at least capable of joking a little.

"You were avoiding me the last few days," Hannibal pointed out.

Murdock shifted as he looked out of the window again. His gaze lingered over the pond with the geese and ducks.  
Then he turned back to Hannibal. His coffee black eyes piercing the ice blue ones of both his commander and friend.

"I didn't want you to look like _that_ ," Murdock said. "Like you did something wrong... Because you didn't."

His face slowly drained of color as he spoke. Murdock felt bone tired, but it was like a weight was finally lifting from his mind. He never realized how much he needed to say this, until now.

He took in a long breath and continued. "It could've happened to any of us."

Hannibal observed the pilot, noticing his gaunt face. The man was looking close to exhausted. And despite the fact that the Captain tried to hide it from his commander, Hannibal realized that Murdock hadn't been exactly fit yet and still needed a lot of bed rest.  
But Hannibal also knew that he needed to speak up now, for both his and Murdock's sake. So he did.

"No, Murdock. I made a mistake." Hannibal said while shaking his head shamefully.

"Remember, the first thing I ever taught you guys was to NEVER turn your back to the enemy."

Hannibal sighed.

"I was sloppy and unprofessional and made a rookie mistake that almost cost you your life, Captain."

Hannibal rubbed his eyes wearily. He was glad they were finally talking. But it was hard to choose the right words. The pilot looked at him with a pondering expression on his face.

"We risk our lives every time we're out on a mission, Colonel," Murdock mumbled. "And you risk your life for us all the time."

"That's different..." Hannibal disagreed.

"I don't see it that way..." Murdock said, swaying a little on his feet as he turned around and made his way to his bed.

Hannibal quickly supported him, making sure the pilot wasn't going to drop to the ground.

"You saved my ass so many times, I lost count, Colonel," Murdock said as he finally sat down on his bed with a low sigh.

"And we all make mistakes... As you know, I get a bit nuts at times," He added with a weary lopsided grin while tossing one of Bob's feet to the ground. It made a rather disturbing crunching sound as it hit a pile of cereal.

Hannibal considered this for a while.

"Thanks...Captain," he finally muttered.

Murdock looked away with embarrassment clearly on his face.

"Chucks, Colonel, you don't need t-..."

"I mean it, Murdock!" It was Hannibal who interrupted him this time.

" _Thank you..._ for saving my life."

He sat down next to the pilot and immediately jumped up again, awkwardly removing Bob's other foot from under his derriere and tossing it to the floor with a clatter.

Murdock looked sideways as the older man sat down again. Their eyes met.

"Anytime, Hannibal..." He mumbled. "Anytime..."

For a while, both men didn't say a word. They were simply sitting on the bed, lingering in their own thoughts while savoring the moment. It wasn't an awkward silence. It felt comforting instead.

"So...," Murdock began after what had felt like minutes.  
Sending Hannibal a teasing look, he continued with a hopeful voice:  
"Now we're friends again, I don't suppose you'll read me a bedtime story before you go. Do you?"

Hannibal guffawed.  
Leave it to the captain to break a silent moment with an unexpected request.

"Don't go pushing it, Captain," he grinned with a twinkle in his eye.

"Quite right..." Murdock nodded while sheepishly beaming back at his commander.

The lanky pilot sighed in relief. Things were going to be all right.  
And there was one thing he was certain of...  
If he ever had to do it again; taking a bullet for Hannibal or _any_ of the guys,

He knew he would...in a heartbeat

* * *

FINI


End file.
